


back and forth (i kinda like it that way)

by ariadne_odair



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 21/24 relationship, Everyone's a girl, F/F, Fingering, Girl Direction, Oral Sex, Pining, Semi-Public Sex, girl!Harry, girl!Louis, harry's the cute bubbly intern, hompohobia, is that a tag, liam is the big boss, louis' a sport journalist, that louis would like to pin to her desk, zayn is her girlfriend and rolls her eyes a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 17:09:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2236872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariadne_odair/pseuds/ariadne_odair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>There's a ridiculously attractive girl standing by Louis' desk when she gets into work.</i> </p><p>  <i>"Hey," the girl smiles, "do you want a coffee?"</i></p><p>  <i>This is literally every wet dream Louis' ever had. </i></p><p>  <i>Louis scrambles for something to say that doesn't make her sound completely brain dead, and comes up with, "Ughfn."</i></p><p>  <i>It's too early for this. It is way too early for this. It could be six in the afternoon and Louis still wouldn't be prepared for an incredibly attractive girl standing her desk offering her coffee. She's not completely sure she's not hallucinating.</i></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>girl!direction where they all work at a magazine. Liam is the big boss, Zayn is her girlfriend and raises her eyebrows a lot. Louis is 24 and a sports journalist, and not equipped to deal with Harry, who's a gorgeous <i>21 year old</i> intern, that will be leaving at the end of the summer - so it's not like she should get involved anyway, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	back and forth (i kinda like it that way)

**Author's Note:**

> Heeey guys this was already posted but my ao3 account bombed and I had to repost the entire thing??? I was like wtf but thankfully I had a copy saved in google docs :D
> 
> okayyy hope you all enjoy! This is all vaguely ugly betty ish so sorry if it's not realistic!

There's a ridiculously attractive girl standing by Louis' desk when she gets into work.

"Heey," the girl says brightly, "do you want a coffee?"

This is literally every wet dream Louis has ever had in her life.

Louis just sort of gapes like a goldfish, and waits for her brain to catch up. She missed her alarm this morning, so she had to run to work. Her hair's pushed up into a messy bun that's already falling apart, she's pretty sure she has pit stains, and she's not 100% sure that she didn't rip her tights as she grabbed the elevator.

"Umph," Louis says eloquently. She has to be hallucinating. She must be half asleep. This doesn't happen in real life.

The girl is looking at her with the concern you normally reserve for terminally ill patients. Louis swallows, trying to get her mouth to work, when thankfully Zayn walks past. Zayn looks immaculate as ever, the  _bitch,_ and she raises one eyebrow as she takes in the scene.

"Louis will have a latte, Harry, thanks," Zayn smiles, and the girl - Harry, Louis' brain notes dumbly, - smiles again, heading off with a little wave.

"What is wrong with you?" Zayn sighs, taking a seat in Louis' wheely chair. "Did you run to work?"

"Missed my alarm," Louis groans, rubbing her face with her hand, "who the hell was that?"

Zayn looks at her pityingly, grabbing her wrist. "Come on, bathroom. I've got some make up in my bag. Plus some body spray." Zayn pauses. "And a new pair of tights."

Louis' stupidly appreciative either way, so she lets Zayn drag her to the bathroom. She accepts her mascara gratefully, leaning against the sink as she applies it carefully. The last thing she needs is to poke herself in the eye. Zayn hands her some body spray as well, and Louis sprays it liberally, until the bathroom smells like Zayn's vanilla perfume.

Zayn sits on the counter while Louis makes herself look less like a yeti and more like a human. She crosses her legs delicately at the ankles, her peplum skirt revealing just the top of her tanned thighs. Zayn always looks so well done and professional, but Louis knows that under her white blouse her tanned skin is marked with tattoos, that behind her wavy hair she's got three piercings at the top of her ear.

"Thanks, babe," Louis says finally, handing all Zayn's essentials back to her. "So, does jailbait has a name?"

Zayn smirks, rolling her perfectly made up eyes. "That's  _Harry._ She's working here for the summer. She's just finished university, so Liam's let her get some work experience here before she applies for other jobs. I think her and Liam used to be friends when they were younger. It's cute, they're like sisters."

"Just finished university," Louis repeats, leaning against the sink. "Great, so that's 20?"

"21."

"Fantastic, I feel like a corpse," Louis snaps.

"Louis, you're 24," Zayn sighs, "you don't need dentures just yet. You can put off buying a zimmer frame for a couple of years."

"Shut up," Louis scowls, "why is she delivering coffee? I felt like I was in a porno."

"She's not meant to," Zayn says, wrinkling her nose, "Liam said she could help with printing, editing, things like that, but she said she'd got get something from the coffee shop for everyone. She said she felt guilty about not pulling her weight."

"Speaking of," Louis says dryly, checking her watch. "We better go. We're not all sleeping with the boss," she says cheekily, and Zayn gives her the middle finger.

It's a testament to their friendship that Zayn doesn't go completely ape shit at that comment. Liam and Zayn weren't even together when Zayn started working there. Louis knows it put a  _huge_ weight on their relationship though; she remembers one too many nights where Zayn rang her crying. They almost weren't going to get together, but Louis guesses there's only so much you care about people's opinions.

The thing is, if Liam was a boy, everyone would assume Zayn was a gold digger who had slept her way to the top. But because they're both clearly girls, people either seem uncomfortable or confused. It pisses Louis off no end, but there's little they can do.

At a Christmas party last year, some guy asked them to 'go at it', so he could watch. Obviously he got kicked out, (and Louis' pretty sure more than one member of staff kicked him in the balls, naming no names) (Louis Tomlinson), but Louis could see how much it affected Zayn.

Once he'd left, Zayn had cried about how her relationship wasn't 'entertainment.' It was horrible, and Louis had felt helpless. She can stand up for herself, yes, but she can't stop every stereotyping, misogynistic piece of shit. She'd just held Zayn tight, and tried not to cry herself.

Liam had hugged her, burying her face in Zayn's neck, then shouted at a lot of very important people. Louis has no idea what happened, but last she heard that piece of scum was working at  _Fishing Weekly._ (And having a testicle retrieval operation, but of course that's all rumours.)

But it's painful to bring that up, and Louis doesn't want to, not today, so she just squeezes Zayn's hand when she gives her back her mascara, and Zayn gives her a small smile in return.

She checks her reflection one last time before she goes. It's not a complete lost cause; her hair's loose around her shoulders, and she'll have to keep her blazer on, but she no longer looks like an extra in  _Shaun of the Dead._

Harry's waiting for her when she gets back, and Louis takes a second to take her in. Her first thought is that she looks so  _young;_ she's got pale, creamy skin, with big, jade eyes, her eyelashes a ashy smudge against her soft skin. She's got curly, deep brown hair, held back by a funky blue headband. One curl's escaped and curves around her face, making her look sweet and alluring at the same time.

She's tall, taller than Louis, with black hipster boots, standing pigeon toed, a dark blue plaid shirt and skin tight jeggings that makes Louis' heart race. She has her hands wrapped around Louis' coffee, and Louis sees the numerous rings on her fingers, a small cross tattoo inking her skin between her thumb and forefinger. 

Okay. Louis can do this. She can say something impressive, and not look like a complete  _twat._

"Hi," Louis squeaks. Great. Nailed it.

Harry opens her mouth, but as she hands Louis her coffee she misjudges the distance and almost drops it. Louis surges forward in time, and Harry shrugs sheepishly. "Oops."

"It's okay," Louis says hastily, "I caught it in the end." Harry smiles, and Louis swallows nervously. "So, um. How come you're interning here? Do you want to be a journalist?"

Louis works at  _Irresistible,_ one of the most celebrated women's magazines in the UK. They won Launch of the Year (New Format) at the MDAs in 2013, and they've been nominated this year for Magazine Website of the Year - all Zayn's doing, she's amazing at graphic design, - as well as women's lifestyle in the sectors category. 

Louis loves working there. She's a sports journalist, but she doesn't just look at the nearest way to loose five pounds. She gets to try out all the regimes herself, and she gets to interview inspirational sports women. She got to interview Jessica Ennis last summer, and Louis may possibly have cried in excitement when Liam told her. 

It's cheesy but she  _likes_ where she works, likes going to interview sports stars while taking a realistic view, likes seeing her name in fine print under  _her_ article. Liam's a good boss - yes they have a fashion section, but Liam tries to keep it tummy tuck free as possible. It's one of the only magazines Louis can open without feeling like her every flaw is being exposed. 

Not to mention it's strongly pro-LGBT. They did a photo shoot with Ellen Page last month, and the fact she was meeting a X-Men was only part of the reason Louis teared up. 

"I'd like to be a music journalist," Harry beams, "I actually managed to do some work experience at Billboard last summer - "

"You interned at  _Billboard?"_ Louis asks, shocked. "Wait, didn't they do an interview with  _Shakira_ last summer?"

"Yep," Harry says happily, green eyes wistful. "It was incredible. I also managed to take notes at NPR's interview with Joy Williams - " She frowns at Louis' blank expression. "From  _The Civil Wars?_ They're really good. Only it was really sad because I'm pretty sure they're going to break up."

"How the hell did you swing all of this?" Louis asks incredulously, "is your dad Simon Cowell?"

Harry shuffles, gazing downwards. Her lips are pale pink and pouty, in a cute little cupid's bow, and Louis watches as she bites down on her bottom lip, straight teeth tugging at plush skin.

"Um, do you know Nick Grimshaw? The Radio 1 presenter? We knew each other as kids, so he knew I was interested in music and," Harry shrugs, "I guess he has um, connections."

"Wow," Louis says, impressed, "I'm pretty certain I only got my job because Zayn likes me. And Liam likes Zayn. A significant amount. Enough to get me employed."

"Nah," Harry grins, shaking her head, "Liam talks about you like you power the sun. She's always talking about funny you are."

Harry leans in closer, and asks surreptitiously, "Did you really interview Jessica Ennis?"

"Yep," Louis says proudly, "she was really nice as well. And tiny! I couldn't believe how strong she must be." Harry looks impressed, and it makes something warm settle across Louis' skin. At that moment Ashton strolls over, hair fluffy and wearing his stupid hipster glasses.

"Heyy," Ashton drawls, walking over to Louis' desk. "Oh. Hey, Harry."

"Hey," Harry replies, and Louis has a scary moment of realising Ashton is practically the male version of Harry. Like, Louis has only known Harry for five minutes, and she can already tell she and Ashton are the type to rescue chipmunks and smell like candyfloss, and generally be adorable kitten versions of people.

Ashton turns to Louis. "Louis, can I borrow your paperclips?"

Louis narrows her eyes. "Are you going to use them to balance on Michael's nose while he's sleeping? Because  _last time_  you thought it would be funny to do that, Michael woke up and swallowed them, and he had to go to hospital."

Ashton pouts at her. Louis sighs. "Fine."

Ashton scampers off happily once Louis hands him a packet, and Louis turns back to Harry. "Sorry, that's Ashton. He and his little quartet make up the men's corner. It's hilarious, they have to do a 'women's challenge' every week. They still won't tell me  _who_ had the bikini wax, but between you and me Luke has an incriminating limp going on."

Harry giggles, actually fucking giggles, and Louis is so done. It is still too early for this. It will always be too early for this. It could be four in the fucking afternoon, and it would still be too early for Louis to deal with a  _21 year old_ that gives Louis butterflies.

"I have to do some work now," Louis blurts, which is only half a lie. She does have a draft to edit, no to mention she needs to make a run to reprographics, as well as her final check up with the Women's Rugby League. She'd interviewed Emma Croker about the upcoming World Cup, so she just needs to finalise some details and she's good to go.

"Okay," Harry says, "it was nice meeting you."

"I guess I'll see you around?" Louis asks, because apparently she's got a thing for masochism. Harry nods happily, then heads off, wandering over to Zayn's desk. Louis only stares at her arse for five seconds, before turning on her laptop. Sighing, she takes a sip of her latte.

It's perfect.

 

 

 

 

 

Louis manages to maim herself two times that day. It's all Harry's fault.

The first time, Louis' wandering over to the water machine to get a drink of water. It of course has nothing to do with Harry being over there at the same time.  _No way._ Louis just happens to be very thirsty. Really thirsty. Typing really makes your throat dry. 

Harry's just taking a sip of her cup when she gets over there. Louis watches her throat work as she swallows, the way Harry tilting her head stretches her shirt over her breasts, revealing their soft curve.

Louis walks into a desk, smacks her shin, and has to duck behind a chair when Harry looks over, so she doesn't look like a complete fool.

The second time, Harry actually comes over to Louis' desk. Louis doesn't look up until she's almost there, and she genuinely thinks she may be having heart palpitations.

"Here's a memo from Liam," Harry says, passing it to her. Liam may be Louis' favourite person right now. "She said that she needs the piece on the Women's Rugby League done by Friday, so have you called them yet?"

"Shit, I need to do that," Louis swears. She scrabbles for the file on her desk with the numbers in, only she manages to knock it on the floor. She bends down to get it, only when she comes back up she bangs her head on the desk.

"Fucking hell," Louis moans, pressing her hand to the back of her skull. It's throbbing painfully, and she's pretty sure she's got a lump coming up. Brilliant.

"Are you okay?" Harry asks anxiously, stepping forward. She gently touches the back of Louis' head, and Louis can't breathe; Harry's too close, her fingers warm, and Louis can count the cute little freckles on Harry's nose.

"I'm fine," Louis says hastily, pulling back, even though she's not positive she doesn't have concussion.

Harry's brow crinkles, but she nods doubtfully. "Are you sure? That looked like you hit your head pretty hard."

"No, I'm perfectly fine," Louis trills. She can feel something oozing at the back of her head. "Tell Liam I'll get on that right now."

"Okay," Harry says slowly, but she heads off. Louis lets out a sigh of relief, then hisses gingerly when she touches the back of head.

Zayn looks up from her desk next door, amber eyes amused. "Smooth."

"Fuck off," Louis snaps, and heads to the bathroom to grab some tissues. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sometimes Liam and Louis have 'business meetings.' They're not business meetings, they're a chance to grab a  _Nandos_ and talk about their girlfriends (or lack of in Louis' life).

So when Louis shows up in Liam's five minutes later, flushed from where she definitely didn't run down the halls, Liam really shouldn't look so shocked.

"Liam," Louis pants, straightening her skirt, "This would be a really good time to have a business lunch." Liam opens her mouth, but Louis cuts her off. "Liam, I really think it would improve my work ethic. My production levels would sky rocket."

Liam wrinkles her nose at her, checking her watch. It's funny, because Liam and Zayn are two sides of the same coin. At work, Liam's smart blazers and tight trousers, her brown hair pulled back into a ponytail that swishes when she walks. At home, Liam's like Zayn, a complete contradiction, plaid shirts and denim shorts, jeans and snapbacks. 

"Have you called the Rugby League?" Liam asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," Louis says immediately. It's not even a lie; Louis can be single-minded when she wants, and she has the benefit of actually  _liking_ her job, so she can really get into a project sometimes.

"Written your first draft?"

"Yep."

"Proof read - "

"I've proof read, I've been to reprographics, I've booked appointments," Louis says in a rush, "I've even filed that report you wanted,  _and_ colour coded my post it notes."

Liam's lips twitch. "Your post it notes?" she says innocently. 

Louis glares at her, and Liam grins, taking a sip from her water bottle. She runs her hand down her diary. "Okay, but I've got to be back by 2PM. I've got a meeting with the freelancer, and then I need to finalise our violin piece."

"We'll have enough time," Louis says quickly, "we'll go to the one around the corner, okay?"

"Okay," Liam says slowly. She clicks around on her computer, putting her status as offline, then stands up, grabbing her bag. "Why are you so desperate anyway? Did you skip breakfast again?"

"I'll tell you when we get to the cafe," Louis says quickly, "I can't tell you here."

Liam doesn't even look phased, just rolls her eyes - something she's learnt from Zayn - and heads out with Louis. They go to the little coffee shop around the corner. It's midday so it's fairly, but Jesy the waitress grins at them as they step in. 

"Usual table, babe?" she asks cheerfully, swooping past with a tray stack full of empty glasses. 

"Please," Louis says gratefully, and Jesy nods at her before gesturing to their usual table in the corner.

Louis and Liam take a seat, Liam shrugging off her blazer and carefully folding it, placing it onto the seat next to her.

"Okay, now are you going to tell me why you dragged me out of there?" Liam asks dryly, picking up the menu. 

"Just wondering about the new intern is all," Louis says airily, "what's her name? Holly?"

Liam stares at her. "It's Harry. You know it's Harry."

"Hettie? Hailey?"

"Louis, you know her name's Harry. Zayn told you this morning."

"Harley? Hannah? Huckleberry - "

"Louis," Liam says flatly. "It's Harry. Harry Styles. She's 21 and from Cheshire. Stop being a twat."

Louis scowls at her. "Well, I didn't realise you were her  _PA,"_ Louis drawls, and Liam kicks her under the table. 

Jesy flutters over, pencil tucked behind her ear, her crazy red hair tied into a messy side ponytail. "The usual? Liam, I haven't seen you in a little while."

"I'll have a cheese toastie, thanks. And I've been busy!" Liam smiles, "how's the singing gig going? When's you and Leigh Anne's next thing, I'll come see it." _  
_

"I'll message you the dates," Jesy grins, "you better come, we have merch now and everything."

"Going up in the world," Louis teases, and Jesy sticks her tongue out at her, "can I have a cheese toastie as well, please?"

Not the healthiest, but fuck it. No doubt she'll end up doing some kind of insane workout sometime this week. Side effect of the job.

Jesy takes their orders, hurrying off, and Liam raises her eyebrows. "Okay, Tommo, what's going on? Why are you suddenly obsessed with Harry? She's been here for a  _day."_

"Day too long," Louis scowls, "Liam, you know I can't work with attractive people. It's too distracting. I pretty sure I made my head  _bleed_ today, because you sent Harry over with a fucking memo. I'll end the week in a body cast."

"What do you want to know?" Liam asks, smiling at Jesy when she drops off their toasties. "Might as well indulge your stalking tendencies. You'll just go try and find it out by yourself anyway."

Louis wants to protest, but this is true. She'd already been thinking of ways to break into Liam's house to snoop around for Harry related items.

"She's three years younger," Liam says, taking a bite of her toastie. She swallows, wiping her mouth with a napkin. Louis just takes a massive bite and waits.

"Harry was one of the kids at the summer camp I helped out at. Only she had an asthma attack one year, and I was the only one trained to help her." Liam shrugs. "Kind of makes you friends. We kept in touch, and we both went for the next few summers. Once Harry was old enough she become one of the leaders like me."

Louis can hear the softness in Liam's tone, the hint of affection and protectiveness. "I knew she wanted to be a music journalist, so I said she could do some work this summer if she wanted. I think she's got some interviews lined up, but they're not until September, so she didn't want to be waiting around all summer."

"Oh," Louis says, swallowing. She can imagine little Harry and teenage Liam at camp together. Liam used to have crazy curly when she was younger, Louis' seen the pictures, she bets they looked like sisters. "That's so cute, have you got pictures?"

"You're like a curious old woman," Liam teases, but she pulls out her purse, flipping it open. Louis catches sight of a picture of Zayn and Liam, smiling cutely at the camera, Zayn wearing Liam's raybans. It's sickeningly cute.

"Here," Liam says, sliding the photo across the table, "I didn't even put that in there. Harry slipped it in there the day I went off to university, bless her."

Louis looks at the photo, tracing the worn edges. Liam has got a proper Hermione going on, and she's got her arm around Harry. Harry looks about sixteen. She's got just a little bit of puppy fat, and her curls are tighter than they are now. Louis can tell she's definitely shorter than Liam in the picture.

"Louis, you can't keep the picture," Liam laughs after a second, taking it out of her hands. 

"Shut up," Louis grins, "you're the one that keeps pictures of other girls in your purse when you're in a relationship."

Liam smirks. "Little bitter, Lou."

"Shut up. I am perfectly happy being single. I revel in my solitary state."

"Sure," Liam snorts, "except you've got a huge crush on my intern."

It quickly dissolves into the kind of ribbing and bickering that cements their relationship, like sisters but closer, with that trace of affection running through it. They do talk business a little, Liam tells Louis her plans for the end of the summer party, but mostly they swap toastie slices and chat about the new  _Winter Soldier_ movie. 

Louis links arms with Liam when they head back to the office. Liam, the sap, brought a cookie for Zayn at the shop. Louis bitches about it all the way back, but she secretly thinks it's adorable how much they look after each other. Probably not that secret. Louis' not always subtle in showing her emotions. Hence walking into a desk when she sees a cute girl. 

The afternoon flies by quickly after that. Louis proof reads her article, before sending the final copy to Liam. She's proud of it; it's precise and sharp, but with just the right amount of emotion that it doesn't get cheesy. Liam sends her back a happy face emoji, and Louis feels a warm rush of pride.

She can barely believe when she sees it's 5PM, and it's like the notification suddenly makes all the tiredness rush back. Louis can work for hours without stressing, but once someone pulls her out of her stride it's like everything's put into sharp focus.

Louis yawns, stretching her arms to hear the satisfying crack. She slides her phone back into her bag, checking it before she turns it off. She logs off her computer, grabbing her keys and throwing them into her bag at the last moment.

"See you tomorrow, Zee," Louis yawns, waving at her. Zayn gives her a little wave, before going back to her work, amber eyes intense, one hand pushing up her glasses. Louis smiles, shaking her head; Zayn's also one for intense concentration. She'll spend forever on the graphics until Liam kicks her out and takes her home. 

"Bye, Perrie," Louis says when she gets to the lobby. Perrie, the receptionist smiles at her sweetly. Her blond hair is dip-dyed pink today. Louis has got to ask her where she gets her hair done.

"Bye, Louis," Perrie waves, "busy day?"

"Not too bad," Louis says, leaning against the front desk, "What about you?"

"One of the printers broke," Perrie sighs, tapping her bright pink nails on the desk. "Which of course was the apocalypse. The repair man's coming in tomorrow."

Louis winces sympathetically. "At least it's getting fixed. I'll see you tomorrow, Perrie." 

"Bye, love," Perrie says, then looks at someone over Louis' shoulder. "Thanks, Harry."

Louis turns to see Harry. She's carrying a box in her arms, that she passes over to Perrie. "Anything I can do to help," Harry says, "hey, Louis. Are you walking out?"

"Yes," Louis says slowly, and Harry nods.

"Me too, I'll walk with you." Harry grabs her brown satchel, then pushes the door open for Louis.

"Going to protect me?" Louis teases.

Harry nods seriously, juxtaposed to their cheeky glint in her eye. "Yeah, I'm your bodyguard for the day."

"Safeguarding me on the scary streets of London," Louis teases. Harry pouts, but then nearly trips on a rough piece of pavement. Louis grabs her arm, steadying her, hand tightening around Harry's arm automatically. "Yeah, really looks like I'm the one that needs saving."

"Heyy," Harry drawls, frowning in mock offence, "I can be big and scary if I want."

"Harry, I've known you for a day and you're as scary as kitten," Louis grins, enjoying the easy banter. 

"All lies," Harry says breezily, "it's all camouflage, I'm secretly hard as nails underneath."

"Right," Louis laughs, "so, do you live near here?" 

"My friend's letting me stay at theirs for the summer," Harry answers, "I drove here actually." She gestures towards the corner. "Do you - um, do you want a lift?"

_Say yes. Say yes. You can spend an extra five minutes in the car with Harry._

"It's okay," Louis says,  _like an idiot_ , "I'm only about 10 minutes away. I normally walk, only I missed my alarm today, so I had to run. Hence my dishevelled appearance this morning."

"Is that why you stared as me as though I was speaking in a different language?" Harry asks curiously, and Louis groans, burying her face in her hands.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I didn't really expect to get to work and - "  _see someone I'd gladly get between their legs for -_ "for someone to be there."

"Oh," Harry nods. She stops by a small black car. "Well, this is me."

"See you tomorrow," Louis says, ignoring the urge to grab Harry's hand and force her to walk the rest of the way with her.

"Bye," Harry says softly, "see you tomorrow."

Louis waves before walking. And if she swings her hips a bit more than usual, well. No one needs to know.

 

 

 

 

 

She really is knackered when she gets home. Louis immediately pulls off her blazer and pencil skirt, throwing them in the wash on the way to her bathroom. Louis' flat isn't too large, it isn't too fancy, and it's definitely not the cleanest, but it's hers. She's worked hard enough that she's been able to find something that is cozy without being minuscule, that she can have the basics with a few accessories as well. 

She has a quick shower, towel drying her hair as she shoves a ready meal in the microwave. Louis pulls out a Tesco value salad as well; it looks vile, but she's already had a toastie today. It's not like she's overly conscious of her weight, but she was a complete slob at university, and her mum will kill her if she doesn't at least try.

She's got  _Educating Yorkshire_ on the recorder; she likes to watch it to remind herself why she choice to be a journalist not a teacher. Also why she didn't choose to be a teacher in  _Doncaster._

She checks her messages as the smell of lasagne begins to fill the kitchen. She has a call from Stan, so she calls him back as she's dishing up.

"Louis!" Stan greets on the first ring, and the familiar accent immediately soothes Louis' ears, makes her think of walks home after school, of grubby knees and scraped palms from playing football in the park. "How's it going? I haven't talked to you for ages. Have you killed anyone yet?"

She chats to Stan for a bit, alternating between talking and scooping pasta into her mouth. She tells him about all the interviews she's done, and he tells her about his job as an electrician.

Louis knows pretty much everyone he talks about, and it makes the same familiar ache twinge her bones. There's always a bit of homesickness when she rings anyone from Donny up, but she wouldn't trade her life in London for the world.

It's easy talking to Stan, because he's always been there for her, ever since they were little. Stan was the first boy she kissed, the first boy she did anything with. The first boy she told  _dicks maybe weren't it for her -_ and in that many words, too. Stan had been fine with it, shocked but fine, and ready to beat up anyone who started with her because of it.

And had. On various occasions.

She feels a little wistful once she hangs up. She sighs, turns the television up, and ends up falling asleep on the sofa.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Louis used to love casual Fridays, but now she hopes casual Fridays fucking  _burn in hell_ because this is torture. This is horrible. Louis tries not to be shallow (well, sometimes), but Harry has a captivating amount of skin on show. Louis may have a repeat of the double maiming incident, and she's ran out of all her plasters.

"Hey, Louis," Harry says brightly. Louis must have some kind of tracking chip embedded in her. All she wanted was to sneak to Zayn's office to cry about the possibilities of exposed skin, but Harry's intercepted her. She must have been a ninja in the past life.

It's especially hot today, and Harry's wearing a loose neck t-shirt. It's low enough Louis can see her  _tattoos._ Harry has  _tattoos._ They're birds, swallows she thinks, black wings lacing Harry's skin, the wing tips kissing Harry's collarbone.

Louis has already thought of hundreds of scenarios where she gets her mouth on those tattoos, presses her Harry's skin and mark her up, bite at the skin until she leaves her own bruises, not permanent like the tattoos but with a meaning behind them.

"You have tattoos," Louis says blankly, because she's honestly still struggling with that.

"Yeah," Harry says, and  _now she is actually tugging down the collar of her shirt._ "They're swallows."

"What do they symbolise?" Louis asks, eyeing them carefully. Harry has more than one she realises. There's a star on Harry's elbow, and the cross on her hand. 

"Um, well I read that sailors used to get swallow tattoos," Harry says slowly, like she's not sure if Louis' going to take the piss. "And then when they came back, they'd got the second swallow done. Because swallows mate for life. But I got both at once, because I don't want to wait for my soulmate. I want them with me all the time. That's the point of a soulmate. They've always been there all along."

Harry looks up nervously, pulling on a strand of hair. Louis pauses, then says, "That's really romantic."

Harry physically relaxes, muscles unclenching. "I mean, it's totally sappy," Louis continues, laughing when Harry gives her a little shove. "Hey! I didn't say I didn't  _like_ them. I just think it's all a bit  _The Notebook."_

She smiles at Harry to shows she's joking, but Harry just juts her chin out, crossing her arms. "Okay, well do you have any tattoos?"

"This," she says, holding out her arm, revealing the  _17,_ bold and striking on her wrist.

"It's my football number," Louis says, but doesn't expand. She and Harry aren't that close yet. Louis turns, twisting to the side to show her ankle and the small anchor tattoo. "To keep me grounded," Louis says, but again doesn't say any more. 

"Well, I suppose the closer to the ground it is, the better it can do that," Harry reasons, and it startles a laugh out of Louis.

"How have you found your first week?" Louis asks, taking her files back. "Have you got lots to do?"

"Lots," Harry nods, "I need to rebook all Li's appointments for the next month. Someone spilt coffee over her entire diary, and she has it all on the computer, obviously, but she wants to keep a written copy as well. Plus she says it'll be good practise."

"Don't you mind?"

"Of course not," Harry frowns, "I'm not naive enough to think I might get to be a journalist straight away. It's all about a foot in the door, isn't it? If I get a place at a music magazine, then I can work my way up. Learning to do all the basic stuff is important." She smiles wryly. "Even if there is a lot." 

Louis hesitates. "I could help with some of it, if you like?"

Harry frowns. "Don't you have work to do? I wouldn't want to put you out."

She's so lovely, soft and sweet, and it hits Louis especially hard in that moment. She looks so gorgeous with her messy ponytail, her hopeful expression lighting up her face, and Louis has to take a moment to breathe.

"Yeah, but I can help you at the same time," Louis offers, "it's Friday, right?"

She only has a little work today, considering her article's ready to be submitted. Some basic stuff but that's it. Besides, it's not like she can leave Harry in this time of need. It's almost a  _charity act._ It's like donating to an animal shelter.

They head to one of the conference rooms, so Harry can have the privacy to make the calls. Louis grabs her laptop out of her bag as she goes. She has some general paperwork to go over. The conference room is large, with light from the summer afternoon spilling through the windows. Louis takes a seat in one of the comfy chairs, before logging onto her laptop. 

It's surprisingly peaceful in there, a glass wall between them and the rest of the office, Louis tapping away and Harry's polite voice double checking everything. Harry is just as charming on the telephone as she is in real life. She spends one phone call refusing the advances of one guy, and she comes off the phone blushing.

"He liked you," Louis comments once Harry's put the phone down, raising an eyebrow. She swivels Harry's notepad towards her, trailing her finger down past all the crossed out numbers. "Wait, Ben Winston? Why the fuck was Liam calling Ben Winston?"

Harry giggles at Louis' incredulous tone, shaking her head. "To tell him we're not using him for the August photo shoot."

Louis snorts. "Thank god, Ben's photo shoots are always shit. Last time he had the model's running around on a bloody pier. One girl threatened to sue us for hypothermia."

"He seemed nice," Harry shrugs, "I felt a bit bad for telling him, but you know. He came round."

Louis waggles her eyebrows. "And will he be coming round to yours later?"

"Shut up," Harry laughs, even though she blushes further. "No he won't, I spent a five minute conversation with him  _on the phone,_ Louis."

"Right little romantic comedy there," Louis grins, "it sounds like a bad romance plot."

Harry's quiet for a moment, and Louis' worried she's pushed it too far, when Harry says quietly, "Phones for Two."

Louis blinks. "What?"

"The romantic comedy could be called  _Phones for Two,"_ Harry grins, "like Phones for You. Or  _Can I have your number?"_

Louis stares at her, then says, "That is the worst pun I've ever heard."

" _Waiting for the ring,"_ Harry continues, laughter in her voice, " _0800 boyfriend._ _Call me daily."_

Louis crosses her arms. "None of those are funny."

" _Smooth Operator."_

"Harry."

" _Tele - moan."_ _  
_

"Harry."

"Okay, that one was a bit weak - "

"Harry," Louis says firmly, "if you don't stop with the phone jokes, I'm going to call Ben back and book him for the August shoot. It'll be fucking awful, and I'll tell Liam it's all your fault, and you'll be fired."

Harry tries to stop laughing, biting her lip as she nods at Louis. "Did you not think they were a little funny?"

"No," Louis says flatly, jabbing her in the ribs. "Get back to chatting people up."

"Okay," Harry sighs, as if Louis' being unreasonable. "Fine."

Louis waits until Harry's look away, then lets her lips curve up into a giant grin. Harry's such a  _dork,_ and it's endearing, her energy rubbing off on everyone else around her. Louis watches Harry make the call, the way her cheeks are still tinted slightly from amusement. Harry pauses to write something down, then looks up, straight at Louis. Louis doesn't look away fast enough, and Harry  _smirks,_ fucking smirks, before looking away. Louis feels all jittery and squirmy, like a kid with a crush, the same vibrancy and excitement running through her.

"You're not cute," Louis mumbles, and she hears Harry snickers before answering the phone with a professional, "This is Harry Styles, I'm ringing about Miss Payne's appointment on the 30th?"

Once Louis' finished her work, she grabs Liam's (new) diary from where Harry's placed it on the table. Harry looks at her, but Louis ignores her, flipping through to August.

Louis has no doubt Liam has everything backed up on the computer, but Liam likes simplicity, little acts that are uncomplicated when her job gets hectic, and if that means have a paper copy of everything, Louis' not going to begrudge her that. 

Harry's taken a post it note copy of everything she has to write down, so Louis tugs it over, copying each one into the dates. The diary's nice, with a soft leather cover, and Louis thinks Zayn probably got it for her.

"So," Louis says once Harry finishes her latest call. "What were you liked in university?"

"Um, what?" Harry asks, frowning.

"You can tell a lot about people by how they acted in uni," Louis shrugs, putting down her pen, "I got completely wankered for the first year, cried through the second year at the amount of work, then survived on a caffeine drip for the third year."

"Where did you study?" Harry asks, "and where did you get a caffeine drip?"

"Ask Zayn," Louis says casually, "and I did a Ba in sports journalism at Chester university."

"I looked at Chester when I was doing music journalism!" Harry says excitedly, "but I went to Huddersfield in the end. That's so cool, we could have been at the same university!"

"Um, forgetting the three year old age difference, love," Louis smiles, the endearment slipping out without her realising it, "I'm  _old,_ I would have been graduating as you were just enjoying your first taste of freedom."

"Oh yeah, because you're ancient," Harry says, rolling her eyes. Zayn should be banned from the office. She is a bad influence on  _everyone._ "You're 24, that's so cool."

"Er, no it isn't. You have to be a grown up. Pay bills. Watch rent. Chuck the milk out when it goes green."

"Okay, Peter Pan," Harry teases, "don't you think it's cool you've started your future? That you can start planning a house, your career, if you want kids - "

"Are you some shrivelled old lady in 21 year old body?" Louis asks, shaking her head in amusement. "You're like an old soul or whatever, thinking about kids already."

"I love kids," Harry says happily, as if Louis needed any more reasons to fancy her. Next she'll be handing pizza to the homeless. 

"Really? As young as you are?"

Harry just smiles happily, and Louis can't help smiling back. They finish their work in comfortable silence, the soft murmur of Harry's voice and scratch of Louis' pen the only sound in the room. They're like an epic power couple. 

"You never told me what you were like at university," Louis says suddenly, remembering. "Come on, Styles. All nighter at the library, or all nighter at the bar?"

Harry shakes her head. "Bit of both I guess? I did my work, but I did my fair share of throwing up in the streets as well."

"Ah, I remember that being a trend in my generation," Louis says in her best old lady voice, then squeals when Harry smacks her in the arm. "Hey, I was only asking! What about stress?"

Harry stares at her. "Yes, there was a lot of that."

Louis flips her off. "No, smart arse. I meant how did you  _deal_ with it?"

If Louis' hoping for something juicy, she's going to be disappointed. Harry just looks vaguely confused, like a puppy that can't find their favourite toy. "Um," she says finally, "I watched a lot of  _Frozen?"_

Louis raises an eyebrow. " _Frozen._ You. Watched.  _Frozen."_

"What's wrong with  _Frozen?"_ Harry asks a bit huffily, "one of my modules was on cinematic soundtracks and their portrayal in the media and musical accolades."

"Harry," Louis says, "you dealt with the crippling stress of third year, the one that matters, the one where you'll find out whether the last three years and 27 grand amounted to anything, by watching  _Frozen._ I drank. I'm pretty sure Zayn dealt weed. Liam slept in the gym. And you watched  _Frozen."_

"Well, it wasn't just  _Frozen,"_ Harry mumbles, "I watched  _Bambi_ as well. It was like, a variety."

Louis stares at Harry for a second, before she cracks up. She think she might be having an asthma attack at one point, because she literally can't breathe. Her ribs might be falling off.  _Bambi._ Jesus.

"You're all right, aren't you?" Louis says finally, when some of the oxygen is back into her lungs. Harry's looking at her like she's grown another head. Oh well. Better get used to it. Like Louis' the sanest in this company.

"I'm going to just take that as a compliment," Harry says slowly, like Louis' a wild animal that she can't make any sudden movements around, "I'm going to ring people now."

Louis just nods, wiping her eyes. She doesn't stop smiling for the rest of the day.

 

 

 

 

 

"Hi," Harry says brightly, leaning against Louis' desk, "I'm going on a coffee run, you want anything?"

"Haven't we had this conversation before?" Louis teases, and Harry laughs.

"Yeah, I'm expecting a vacant expression in 3,2,1..."

Harry's been at  _Irresistible_ for three weeks now, and while Louis wouldn't say she's immune, but she's definitely growing in resistance to having heart attacks whenever Harry pops up.

On the other hand, Louis' now got into the nasty habit of forgetting to be superficial. It's not just Harry's looks; Louis now knows she offers coffee to everyone, even Perrie at reception. Louis' categorised the way Harry chats with Liam, how she makes her laugh and massages her shoulders after a tense meeting. Ashton adores her; they spend hours chatting about obscure bands Louis' never heard of.

Louis knows Harry has a big sister with crazy dyed hair, that her mum calls her every Saturday, that her favourite show is  _The Great British Bake Off_. And Louis  _likes_ it, wants to know every little thing about Harry, wants every little detail to keep and to cradle, hold tight to her chest and peek at when she's alone.

"What are you doing?" Harry asks inquisitively, trying to get a glance at Louis' computer. Louis quickly minimizes the browser, but Harry catches her. "You're playing candy crush, oh my god, you're not even working."

"Well, I would be if you weren't distracting me," Louis argues playfully. "Here I am, just trying to get on with - "

"Getting past level 20 - "

"Typing up a report - "

"On what? Addictive games where you have to get rid of all the jelly?"

"How do you not know that's what I'm working on?"

Harry gives her look. "Louis. Because you're a  _sports journalist."_

"Oh yeah," Louis says, wrinkling her nose and Harry laughs. She walks around Louis' desk, taking a seat after moving some files. "Make yourself at home."

Harry ignores her, picking up one of the photo frames on Louis' desk. "Who's this?"

"Hm?" Louis answers absent-mindedly. Harry's hair is tied in a messy plait, little curls curving around her face. She's wearing a black peplum skirt today, and it's riding up a little, just enough that Harry's thighs are exposed, the soft skin tantalisingly close to Louis' hand. Harry's wearing a black shirt as well, one with lacy sleeves. She's got high heels on, highlighting her dainty ankles and the jut of the bone there.

"Louis?" Harry repeats, and Louis snaps out of it, cheeks burning. Maybe not so superficial then. She glances at the photo frame Harry's holding. 

"Oh, that's my little sisters," Louis answers, "that's Lottie and Fizzy, and the twins are Daisy and Phoebe."

She smiles when she looks at the photo. It was taken when she took the girls to London zoo. The twins have ice cream all over their faces, and Fizzy's wrinkling her nose, in mid-complaint about the smell of the giraffes. Lottie's the only one who's properly beaming, her arm around Louis, one elbow sneakily jabbing Fizzy in the ribs.

"Awe," Harry coos, tracing their faces with one hand. "They look just like you! Are you the protective big sister then?"

"Yep," Louis grins, "any boys interested in my sisters have to go through me. I fully intend to vet each and everything one of them. Even the twins, any six year olds refusing to share their crayons, I'm there. Is your sister like that?"

"Yeah," Harry says, then hesitates. She chews on her bottom lip, eyes clouding in anxiety. She seems on the verge of saying something, but Louis doesn't push her.

"Gemma had to interrogate all the boys." She takes a deep breath. "But she, um. Had to interrogate some girls as well."

Louis pauses for a second, not saying anything. Then she says, very, very carefully, "My sister's took ages warming up to my first girlfriend. Lottie thought it was especially funny to bang on my bedroom door every time we were in there."

Louis shrugs. "Siblings," she says in a neutral tone, and that one word is a reassurance and a promise and an indication, all rolled into one.

"Yeah," Harry says softly. Louis glances at her, she's looking at the ground, and when she glances up at Louis her eyelashes sweep over her skin.

"You know no one would care?" Louis says quietly, "everyone knows Zayn and Liam are together. People give them shit sometimes, but it's less about their sexuality and more because of their positions in the company."

Harry's eyes narrow, her face darkening. "Yeah, I heard about that tool last Christmas. Liam told me about it. Do they still get shit for that?"

"Not so much now," Louis says sadly, "but I know what you're saying, Zayn was an absolute wreck." She clears her throat, Harry still looks vaguely uncertain, so she changes the subject. "Liam said you went to camp with her?"

"Oh yeah," Harry grins, brightening up a little. "She was my instructor when I was 14. She looks so different now, she used to have this really bushy hair. And she'd memorise all the camps rules, even the stupid ones like you can't wear normal shoes by the lake, only the 'assigned footwear.'" Harry rolls her eyes; Louis' guesses that she forget her 'assigned footwear' a lot.

"Where was it?"

"Cathorpe court?" Harry answers, "near Lincolnshire. We used to play manhunt in the dark, only I tripped once and scraped up all my knee." Harry sighs. "And then I couldn't do anything, because we were playing manhunt and I was nowhere near the home base. So I had to sit there until the game was over."

Louis giggles. "I used to play on the girl's football team, I was always getting bruises from that. Once this girl tackled me at a game, only it was dirty and I sprained my ankle."

Louis wrinkles her nose, remembering the throbbing pain that had encompassed her whole foot. She'd fucked up her hands as well, because she'd spent a month on crutches and the handles were really hard and scratchy. "But then my mate Stan egged her house, so."

"So you started at a young age, then?" Harry grins, gesturing to Louis' computer.

Louis blinks at her. "What? Egging people's houses?"

"No," Harry drawls, "being interested in sports. I bet you interviewed all your players after a game."

"And the ref," Louis jokes, "wrote up a full report every time we did circuit training. Nah, I've always wanted to do it. I don't mind playing, but it's the meeting people, learning their stories, the behind the scenes and the charity work, that's what's really interesting."

Not to mention she got called a dyke a few too many times when she started dating Eleanor Calder in Year 11. One too many girls refusing to change while she was in the changing rooms, and you don't wait to get kicked off, you ask to leave the team yourself. Fuck, Louis left sports all together. At the time she didn't want to tick off another pre-requisite for the stereotypical lesbian. Denial was easier that way.

"I wasn't that good at sport," Harry says thoughtfully, "like, I like being in a team, but I didn't really have the competitive edge. Gemma used to moan at my because I'd always let her win when we played football in the garden."

"You're really close, aren't you?" Louis asks softly. Harry gets this little glow to her skin when she talks about Gemma, as if she couldn't think of anyone better.

"Yeah," Harry grins, ducking her head a little bashfully. "Well, she is my only sister. She's always been there for me. Especially when she, um, had to interrogate - "

" - potential suiters," Louis finishes for her, because sometimes the smallest words are the hardest to say. "I've seen your baby pictures, Styles. I bet you were beating them off with a stick."

"Oh yeah, they were flocking to me with my perm and baby fat," Harry says, rolling her eyes, "I was a real catch."

"You were cute," Louis grins, smiling wider when Harry squirms. "Come on, you were an adorable child."

"Heyy, I'm still adorable," Harry argues, batting her eyelashes. Which she really shouldn't do because it short circuits Louis' brain. "I'm just - matured."

"Matured," Louis repeats, "no, I don't think so. I know it's you and Ashton who prank called Michael earlier."

Harry stares at her. "How did you know that?"

 _Because Ashton came over and told me earlier._ "I know everything that goes on in the office."

Harry's looks a mixture of scared and dazzled, so win win. "Fine, matured  _physically,"_ Harry says again, then starts laughing. "Oh my god, that sounds so stupid."

"Get off my desk," Louis orders, trying not to smiling. "Get out of my face, you are hindering my performance."

Harry just keeps laughing, so Louis throws a paper clip at her. "Go deliver coffee."

"So a latte for you, Lewis," Harry asks cheerfully, still laughing.

"Yes,  _Harold,"_ Louis says, which only makes Harry laugh harder. Zayn pads over as she's going, giving her a strange look.

"What did you do to Harry?" Zayn asks.

"Nothing I wanted to," Louis sighs, spinning around in her chair. She looks as Zayn, taking in the fact her lips are slightly redder than before, that her hair is just that much looser in her bun. "What did you do to  _Liam_?"

" _Everything_ I wanted to," Zayn sighs, and licks her lips very deliberately.

"You're a bitch," Louis tells her, "get back to work you tart."

Zayn just sighs happily. She's clearly had an orgasm. Louis should report that. This is a company built on equality, if Zayn's gets an orgasm, everyone should get one. Especially Louis, considering the last time she had sex with months ago, where a girl had gone done on her in a club bathroom. Louis can't really remember it.

She tells Zayn this. Zayn tells her to put it in the suggestion box.

Louis really hates Zayn sometimes. 

 

 

 

 

 

  

Louis' not sure who's idea it was to go to karaoke. Well, not to go to karaoke. Louis feels perfectly amiable towards karaoke. It's sort of a tradition; she, Zayn and Liam have been going since they started working together. They always go to  _Up All Night,_ partly because Louis knows the owner, Ed, and partly because it's always a laugh. It's cosy and homey, with plush seats and giant plants everywhere. 

Louis knows all the people behind the bar by now, and she can always manage to wrangle a free drink or two. They have a karaoke night every Friday, and they even have a small stage, complete with mike and stage lights that are pretty pot luck with whether they're going to work or not. Louis loves it; it's snug and a little quirky, and no one cares if she leaves with a girl.

No, the real problem is the fact  _Harry's_ been invited, Harry, who Louis can't be around without either maiming herself or someone else. And if it's not a physical maiming, you can guarantee her self esteem is going to take a walloping. It'll be worse than casual Fridays. It's probably Zayn's fault, because Zayn seems hell bent on putting Louis through as much sexual frustration as possible.

Louis checks her outfit one more time before she heads downstairs. Liam's being banging on the door for the past five minutes, but she'll wait. It's  _Liam._

In the end she'd went for her blue skinny jeans, the ones that makes her arse look spectacular. She's wear the red jumper Zayn got her for her birthday, one with rolled up sleeves and the word  _bitch_ across it in black letters. Her hair's down and loose around her shoulders, and she keeps pushing her fringe back with one hand. Louis gives herself a once over; not bad, casual but still fancy enough without looking like she's made an effort.

The knocking intensifies, and Louis sighs, grabbing her bag. "Jesus, I'm coming!" she shouts, trying to ignore how much she sounds like a petulant teenager (which doesn't help by the way she stomps down the hall. Oh well. You're only as old as you think you are).

"I can't afford a new door," Louis says sarkily, then freezes when she sees it Harry at the door. "Oh."

"Hey," Harry beams, "they sent me as a peacemaker. Zayn said you might not take all night if I went."

Harry's wearing leather leggings - not the ones that look like two legged tyres, but ones that look shiny and make her legs look endlessly. Her hair's down, and her bangs hang over her face cutely. She's wearing a loose white vest the shows the sparrows that kiss her skin, revealing the star on her underarm. Her eyes are smoky and her lashes look ridiculously long.

Louis' not going to survive the night.

"You look nice," Louis says, because it's that or  _I want to pin you to the wall and eat you out,_ and who said honesty is the best policy. Harry brightens at the compliment, ducking her head shyly in a way that makes Louis' chest tighten.

"So do you," Harry smiles, reaching out and running her fingers lightly up the sleeve of Louis' jumper, "I like this. Very you."

"Thanks," Louis says sarcastically, and Harry laughs.

"Is this your house?" Harry asks curiously, leaning against the door.

"No, I just happen to live here," Louis says, rolling her eyes. She steps forward, pulling the door shut behind her. "No peeking, Styles. It's a mess right now."

"Like your desk," Harry says pointedly, "I went to go get a stapler the other day, and I'm pretty sure there was something growing in there."

"It's meant to be doing that," Louis bluffs, ignoring Harry's raised eyebrow. She turns the key in the lock, before sliding it into her bag and zipping it shut. "I'm growing something  _on purpose."_

"Right," Harry snorts, "because you're such an avid gardener."

"Yep," Louis replies haughtily, "I'm very interested in er, bushes." Harry laughs suddenly, and it takes Louis a second to get the unintended innuendo. "Oh my god, you're a  _child."_

"Yep," Harry says happily, "hey, Lou, do you want to hear a joke about plants?"

"No."

"How do trees get on the internet?" Harry asks happily, completely ignoring Louis' look of disdain. She elbows Louis. "Come on, Louis. You have to guess."

"Is the answer: this is the shittest joke I've ever heard," Louis says flatly. Harry pouts. "No, they log in.  _Log in,_ Louis."

"Hilarious," Louis says dryly. Harry looks crestfallen, so Louis sighs. "Okay, fine. I'm sure someone somewhere would have found that funny. Happy?"

"Ecstatic," Harry beams, batting her eyelashes. Liam's car is parked in the lot outside of Louis' flat, and Louis can just see the silhouettes of Zayn and Liam in the front seats. Zayn's got her tongue stuck down Liam's throat. They don't seem to have noticed Harry and Louis, so Louis slams her hand down on the bonnet of the car. The sudden noise makes Liam jump hard enough she headbutts Zayn, and Louis laughs so hard that her ribs hurt.

"You're a bitch," Zayn scowls once Louis' climbed into the car. She twists around in her seat, her lips bruised and a noticeable bruise forming on her collarbone. 

"You're going to have to use concealer on that on Monday," Louis says helpfully, and Zayn sticks her middle finger up at her.

"Louis," Liam says icily, "if you've dented my car I'm going to kill you."

"You'll end up killing me anyway," Louis says blithely, unbothered. Liam scowls at her in the rear view mirror, so Louis leans forward in the back seat, tugging Liam's hair. "Come on, Leemo. You know you'll only end up getting off in the loos anyway."

"We would never," Zayn says in a shocked voice, and Louis flips her off. "Do you know what you're going to sing yet?"

"Nope," Louis says, popping the 'p', "Harry?"

Harry smirks, lips twisting up into a wry smile. "It's a secret."

Louis blinks. "Tell me."

"You're missing the point of a secret, Lou," Liam points out, but Louis' undeterred.

"What are you going to sing?" Louis demands, crossing her arms. Harry just shakes her head, running her hand through her curly hair.

"You'll have to wait and see," Harry smiles, "you've never heard me sing before, so I want it to be a surprise."

"I hate surprises," Louis grumbles, crossing her arms, "I'm not talking to you now."

Harry grins in amusement, but she refuses to tell Louis for the rest of the car ride. Louis tries to get it out of her, but nothing works. It puts her off balance a little; she's used to pushing people, needling people until they open up and tell her what she wants. It's how she and Liam become friends; Louis chipped away at her with over-exuberance and sarcasm, until Liam snapped back and she got the response she wanted.

Harry, however, seems perfectly happy to shrug off Louis' attention, not ignoring her, but not pushing back either. Louis can't decide if she's got a spine of steel, or she's just obstinate. Louis thinks both are hot, so it's a lost cause really.

It only take half an hour to get to  _Up All Night._ Louis unclips her seatbelt when Liam pulls into a parking space. She fumbles with it, swearing, and when she finally does it, she looks up to see Harry waiting patiently, holding the door open for her.

Louis gapes a little, something twisting in her chest, before taking the hand Harry offers. It's not like she needs a hand, but Harry's palm is soft when it slides against hers for a few seconds, leaving a cool space when she pulls away. 

Zayn gives her a pointed look when she gets out, but Louis just glares at her. It's not like Zayn can talk, she's already snuggled up to Liam, Liam's arm wrapped around Zayn's waist. Louis just ignores her, walking a bit quicker, wrapping her arms around her. She can't wait to get inside, it's cold out and the wind's sliding under her collar and sleeves.

It's fairly busy when they get inside; it's buzzing with the sound of laughter and drunken catcalls, girls daring their friends to go up and sing, the slam of tequila shots for those who  _accept_ the dare. The bar's fairly busy; Louis can see Ed pouring pints, then sliding effortlessly down the bar to grab a rum and coke for a girl who's get her arm around her boyfriend. It's not too dark, but it's dim enough everything has a bit of shadow; Louis glances over at Harry and sees how the darkness cast over her face highlights her cheekbones.

Louis flushes and looks away; she's already feeling jittery and wound up, butterflies coiling in her stomach for no conceivable reason. It could just be the atmosphere; it could be the fact Harry's got so much skin on show, but that's neither here or there.

They slide into a booth, and Louis' suddenly painfully aware how this looks like a  _double date._ Liam and Zayn sit together - not like they could be prised apart - so Louis and Harry sit opposite them. Harry's got her thigh pressed against Louis' in their cramp booth, and Louis' painfully aware of it, heat sparking in her stomach every time Harry shuffles.

"You okay?" Harry asks, snapping Louis out of her daze. She peers at her, and this is even  _worse._ Harry's being  _kind,_ green eyes widened in concern. Louis' not sure how much of this she can handle.

"Just wondering when the big reveal will be," Louis lies, "quite the countdown you've got going on there, Styles."

"We doing winner takes all?" Liam asks, competitive edge gleaming in her eye. People underestimate Liam. They think she's just this placating puppy dog, but Louis' seen her run a company, she's seen Liam punch a guy in a face for calling Zayn a 'dirty paki,' seen her barrel towards Louis when they're playing footie in the park.

"What's winner takes all?" Harry asks curiously. She runs a hand through her hair, fluffing up the fringe. Louis' beginning to think it's a well worn mannerism. "You never told me about this, Payno. Is it a drinking game? Can we take shots?"

Louis thinks about Harry's lips slick with tequila, her pink tongue licking salt off tan skin, and nearly chokes. "No," she says a little loudly, then clears her throat. "No, it's a thing we do every time we sing. Whoever has the worst performance has to buy everyone dinner."

Harry frowns. "Isn't that mean? How do you decide?"

"We get Ed to judge mostly," Liam shrugs, "only he's scared of Zayn, so one of us has to ask him."

Zayn just smirks, and Harry grins. "Okay, I'm in."

"Great," Zayn grins, "right, we've got a while. I'm going to get a drink. Babe, you coming?" Liam nods, entwining their fingers and heading to the bar.

"You should do a review for this place," Louis says slowly, tracing her finger along the grain of the wooden table. She doesn't dare look at Harry. "Say whether the karaoke is up to standard. Never know, you might meet the newest thing here."

Louis was only joking, but Harry nods seriously. "That's what I like so much about music journalism. It's so precarious. One moment you could be talking to a Grammy winner, the next you could be interviewing a folk duo from some backwater town. It's so capricious, you meet so many people and half off them will never win an award, and one, just that one will write the number one album of the year." Harry shrugs. "And some of them don't want awards. And some of them can't live without the accolades, the recognition."

Louis looks at her properly, at the flush of her skin from talking about her passion. "You really like music, huh," Louis says softly, and Harry's answering grin is so bright it makes Louis' chest hurt.

"Yeah," Harry grins, "really do."

"You know," Louis says tentatively, "I actually tried out for the X Factor once."

Harry gapes at her. "So did I! When did you try out - "

"2010," Louis says, adrenaline running under her skin. "When did you - "

"2010," Harry breathes, eyes sparkly in amazement, "I was 16, I only just made the cut off - "

"I was 19," Louis babbles, suddenly wanting to say everything, wanting to strengthen this connection between them, this ridiculous coincidence. "I'd had my first year of uni, and I had a mini freak out. Late, I know, but I genuinely thought I'd do it - "

"I didn't pass the first round," Harry says sadly, pouting, and Louis squeezes her thigh before she realises she's done it, "They though I was too young." Harry shakes her head. "I don't know if I'd like it that much anyway, the pressure, I - That's how I got into music journalism. I figured it I couldn't be the one being interviewed about my sold out tour, well - maybe I could be the one doing the interviews."

"I didn't get through either," Louis says quietly. The music's still playing, something bassy by  _Paramore,_ but Louis feels as though they're cut off from the rest of the noise, as if the delicate threads of fate twisting together has pulled them closer, as if the trust of revelations has drawn around them, creating a safe cocoon from the rest of the room. "They said I wasn't quite good enough."

Harry leans forward, something undefinable in her eyes, and Louis feels her pulse quicken, feels the threads pulled tighter -

"The queue was ridiculous," Zayn moans, slamming a drink down on the table, and the threads snap as though they were never there. "I'm pretty sure half of this is sweat anyway. And we didn't even have Ed, we had some guy who had no idea what he was doing."

"It wasn't that bad," Liam says, placing a comforting hand on Zayn's arm. She slides a shot over to Harry and Louis. "Got you a shot, liquid courage and all that."

Louis throws her shot back too quickly, just for something to do with her hands. Her eyes water a little bit as it burns her throat, but she still licks her lips after, chasing the bitterness. Harry makes a little noise next to her, and Louis looks over at her. Louis catches her eyes falling to her lips, but then Harry looks away, cheeks flushing. 

"I think they're doing it alphabetically," Liam sniffs, taking a sip of her coke - just coke as she's driving. "So it's me, then Zayn, then Harry, then you, Louis."

"Er, babe," Zayn says, lips curling up in affection, "M is before P in the alphabet."

"Oh."

Louis cracks up. "Liam's practically illiterate," she tells Harry, elbowing her.

"I'm not," Liam protests, frowning.

"Spell 'acquire'," Louis says flatly. Liam glares at her, then mutters something indiscernible, which only makes Louis laugh harder.

One of the waitresses bustles over. Louis' first though is that she's pretty cute, with fluffy blond hair that falls to her shoulders, and a green snapback facing the wrong way on her head. She's holding a clipboard, and she grins at them as she heads over.

"All right?" she asks, with a throaty Irish accent, "you girls singing tonight? I've got to take names?"

"Oh right," Louis says, leaning forward, "I'm Louis Tomlinson - "

The girl gasps, dropping her pen. "You're the Tommo? Ed talks about you all the time! I saw you last time you performed that Christina Aguilera number, mate, it was sick, I could never sing like that."

"Thank you?" Louis asks warily. Why has she got a fan girl?

"You're welcome," the girl grins, eyes widening when they fall on Zayn and Liam. "You're Liam and DJ Malik aren't you? You guys were awesome as well, that Michael Buble number." The girl trails off, sighing happily.

"DJ Malik?" Zayn repeats. Louis tries very, very hard not to look at Harry and Liam, biting her lip.

"Yeah, that's what Ed always put you down as," the girl says innocently.

"I bet he does," Zayn says flatly, and Louis has to take a massive sip of her drink to stop herself laughing.

"I'll put all your names down, yeah?" the girl says, picking up her pen. When she leans over, Louis can see her name tag reads  _Niall._ "What's your name, love?" Niall asks, turning to Harry, "you singing as well?"

Harry nods, and Niall scribbles her name down, before giving them a wave and telling them she can't wait for them to perform. "We have fans," Louis says after she's gone. "We have actual fans."

"You have one fan," Harry corrects, but she's smiling, "I guess this has risen the stakes, right? Got an audience out there."

"I think I can handle it," Louis retorts, raising an eyebrow. "Bring it on, newbie."

The first guy gets on stage, a cute blond called Jack, and Louis immediately gets up. "Let's go dance," she grins, "come on, DJ Malik. Even you."

"I'm going to stab you," Zayn threatens, but she follows Louis onto the dance floor anyway, Harry and Liam trailing behind her. It's packed, but there's just enough room, the beginning notes of the  _Foo Fighters_ flooding the previously empty air. It's loud enough Louis can feel the base reverberating in her bones, and she loves it.

Someone jostles her, and she reaches out instinctively, grabbing the nearest thing. Which happens to be Harry. Oops. But Harry just bites her lip, before sliding an arm around Louis' waist.  _Is this okay?_ Harry mouths, and Louis nods, breathless before she's even started dancing. Harry's arm is warm and reassuring around her waist, and Louis realises that they fit, that their bodies curve together like a jigsaw. It makes her head feel dizzy.

She barely notices when the song finishes, clapping automatically as everyone else does, then Zayn's being called up. She gets her fair share of wolf whistles when she gets up, by Zayn just rolls her eyes, fingers wrapping around the microphone.

 _"Put your loving hand out,"_ Zayn begins, low and gravelly, and Louis lets out a wolf whistle of her one. The song suits her, fast paced and low, and she gets a decent amount of cheering once she's finished. Zayn just smiles, saying thanks quietly into the mike, then slips off the stage.

"That was awesome," Harry babbles when Zayn heads back to them, "I never knew you could sing like that!"

"Thanks, babe," Zayn says softly, but Louis can see how affected she is by the comment. She smirks at Louis. "Your move, Tommo."

Liam's up next, and she sings Michael Buble. Louis predicted it. Liam sings Michael Buble without fault every time. It's make Louis want to kick her for being sentimental, because she knows that  _Everything_ is Zayn and Liam's  _song._ Louis has to admit she's good though, raspy and heartfelt. Louis finds herself swaying a little, Harry's hand gently curled into Louis' jumper.

"That was for my girlfriend," Liam says cheekily when she finishes, which makes the audience shout even louder. Louis gives her an unimpressed look when she gets down.

"Blatantly going for the sympathy vote there," Louis scowls. Liam just slings an arm around Zayn, kissing the crown of her head.

"Don't be bitter," Liam chides, lips pulled into a self-satisfied smirk, "Harry, you're next."

"Right," Harry says a little nervously. She turns to Louis, smoothing out her shirt and dragging her hands through her hair. "Do I look okay?"

"You like fine," Louis smiles, "not sure about your fringe though."

Harry blanches. "What's wrong with my fringe?"

"Just Louis' shitty sense of humour," Liam sighs, pushing Louis to the side, "you look fine, Harry. Ignore her, you'll be fantastic."

"Okay," Harry says shakily. She gives her fringe one final flip. "Okay, here I go."

Louis tilts her head to one side as Harry makes her way to the front. Louis sees Niall stop her and give her a high five, which makes her laugh. Harry climbs onto the stage with her usual grace, tripping over the wires on the stage. She clears her throat, hands clasped together, and Louis feels her heart hurt in her chest at how cute she is, a little lost and nervous, eyeing the crowd as though they're going to attack at any moment.

"You're drooling."

"Shut up, Zayn."

Harry clears her throat again, wrapping a hand around the mike. "Hi, I'm Harry Styles and I'm going to sing something for you tonight."

The music starts up, and Louis doesn't recognise it at first, until Harry sings, " _Good looking, so refined."_ Her voice is airy, sweet almost, and Louis laughs.  _Big spender,_ really? It's all going well enough really, until finishes the last, " _Spend a little time on me."_ There's a pause, and then the bass  _drops,_  a relentless beat pulsing through the speakers.

" _I, I, I,"_ Harry sings, while she  _grinds on the mike stand._ Harry swings her hip, clad in her sinfully tight leggings, moving to the side as she presses against the pole, hands gripping the stand like a lifeline.  It's the hottest thing Louis' ever seen in her  _life,_ Harry thrusting against the pole like she was born to do it, looking down then back up again through her lashes.

" _Spend a little time on me,"_ Harry finishes, and then she begins the next verse like nothing's happened, as if Louis' not half wet from that. The thing is, Harry has this, unabashed, unapologetic grin on her face, like she knows that she just grinded on a pole, but she liked it, and what's wrong with that? Her voice is amazing, just the right side of raspy that makes Louis' toes curl, hitting every note effortlessly and  _thriving_ on it.

At one point, Harry runs a hand through her hair while she's singing, and she lets the hand fall, fingertips trailing down her ribs. Louis' mouth is dry, and all she can think is  _she_ wants to do that, want to touch every part of Harry's body not just because she can, but because they have the kind of relationship that allows that. Harry's really get into it, one hand grasping the mike, the other fluffing up her hair as she belts it out. Watching someone love something that much - well.

First it's incredible.

Second it really turns her on.

The song draws to an end, and she's not sure what's louder, the sound of the audience or the pounding of her blood in Louis' ears. "Oh, and thank you to Niall the waitress," Harry says cheekily at the end, waving at her. "Thank you!"

Harry steps gently off the stairs, heading straight for them. She's flushed and radiant, skin glowing with pride, pupils diluted just slightly for the buzz of performing. Louis wants to spread her out on her sheets and finger her until she screams. 

"Was that okay?" Harry begins, and Liam jumps at her, wrapping her arms around her in a fierce hug.

"I'm so proud of you, Haz," Liam beams, letting go but curving her hands around Harry's biceps. "That was incredible!"

"It was hot," Zayn seconds thoughtfully, and Harry blushes but winks at the same time, a contradiction of bashful and sanguine. She turns to Louis, eyes glistening. "Lou? Did you like it?"

And Louis just. Can't. She has no idea what to say to Harry, Harry who has so many side, cheeky, flirty, helpful, kind, sensitive, strong. Louis feels as though she can't keep up with her, doesn't know where to turn, but at the same time is trying to a catalog every reaction, every smile, every laugh. It's stupid and naive, but Harry's got under her skin, and by now Louis doesn't want to kick her out.

"Lou?" Harry asks slowly, the nick name sliding from her pink, perfect lips, and Louis has to kiss her. That's the only thing that matters now.

"I need to talk to you," Louis blurts, because she's a fountain of shitty excuses, and she grabs Harry's wrist, tugging her through the crowds to the toilets.

"You'll miss your slot," Harry says worriedly from behind her. She's close enough Louis can feel her breathe on her neck, and she suppresses a shiver.

"I really don't care," Louis grits out, still tugging. She couldn't give a fuck about karaoke right now. Does her vagina care about karaoke, no, therefore Louis could not give a shit.

She pulls Harry into the toilets, shutting the door behind her. She stops, lets go of Harry's wrists, and all the momentum, all the force rushes out of her. There's a buzzing in her ears from the sudden silence. She can hear the vague echoes of music through the door, but it seems miles away. Louis shuts her eyes for a second, turning to face Harry.

"Please don't punch me," she murmurs, aloud or as a prayer she's not entirely sure, and then she surges forward and kisses Harry.

Louis kisses hard, kisses furiously because if this is the only chance she's going to get to do this, she's going to go all out. Harry's lips are soft beneath hers, and she tastes off the tequila shot she had beforehand. Louis chases the taste, licks into Harry's mouth desperately, tongues sliding together. Her hands come up to wrap around Harry's neck, fisting in her soft curls. It's hard, and it's desperate, and Louis can feel herself getting wet from  _this,_ from kissing alone, from Harry's hands landing on her waist, spreading over her hips, from the way Harry bites her bottom lip, pulling it into her mouth and smirking when she hears Louis moan.

Louis pulls back, arms still around Harry's neck. She swallows, daring to look up at Harry. Harry's lips are cherry red, slick with spit - Louis' spit, she realises, and it makes the little possessive part of Louis curl and burn, like a match that's caught alight.

"If that was a punch," Harry says slowly, "I'm all for another round."

Louis' so relieved her legs tremble, unclasping her hands from Harry's neck and leaning back. "Well, I don't think I should support abuse," she says softly, and Harry laughs, high and lovely.  

"So," Harry begins, coughing slightly, "um, I'm guessing the grinding wasn't that subtle?"

Louis gapes at her, then smacks her in the arm. "Was that on purpose? Oh my god, you manipulative little shit. A pussy manipulator."

Harry bites her lip, eyes twinkling. "Are you angry?"

Louis shrugs. "Nah. I'm impressed. That is a move of Zayn calibre."

"Okay," Harry says softly, "so. You kissed me. And you liked it. And I liked it. So, we could - "

"Get each other off?" Louis suggests, just to hear Harry's laugh. "I don't think I'd object to that." She hesitates. "As long as you're sure?"

Harry leans in and kisses her sweetly, long and hard, with one hand stroking down Louis' back. "Louis, I've wanted to kiss you since you gawped at me like a crazy person when I offered you coffee. I'm sure."

Louis swallows, words stuck in her throat, and just nods. Harry smiles softly and reaches out for Louis again, but Louis stops her hand.

"Wait, here?" Sure, the door's closed, and there's more than one toilet, but there's still no way of guaranteeing no one will come in. Unless they built a barricade. But even then that's not an absolution. Drunk women can be very strong.  "Anyone could come in."

"I know," Harry grins, and her smirk makes Louis' legs tremble. "That's the fun part."

 _Well._ Louis is in no mood to refuse  _that._

She shoots Harry a grin before running her hands up Harry's t-shirt, pulling them closer together until their hips touch. Louis spans her hands over Harry's ribs, counting every bone, before she hears Harry giggle. She pulls back, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

Harry bites her lip. "It tickles."

"It tickles," Louis repeats flatly, "it tickles. Fucking hell, Styles, I'm just trying to be sexy here, and you're just kicking me when I'm down, aren't you? A girl's just trying to do her duty?"

"Louis, shut up," Harry sighs, and fucking  _picks Louis up._ Louis wraps her legs around Harry's waist automatically, and Harry places her gingerly down on the counter by the sink. For a second they lock eyes, Louis at the same height like this, and Louis kisses her, wet and desperate and  _hot._

Harry tugs Louis' t-shirt off over Louis' head, then gently squeezes Louis' breast with one hand, rubbing one thumb over the nipple through the fabric. Louis whines into Harry's mouth, thankful she wore her good bra today. Harry's splays her other hand across Louis' abs, and they're large enough that they splay over her entire hip, which does a lot to Louis' lizard brain.

Harry unclasps Louis' bra, grinning at her quickly, before running her tongue around Louis' nipple. Louis moans, and Harry tugs her nipple into her mouth, pulling it gently with her teeth, making Louis shudder her in pleasure. "So pretty," Harry murmurs, breathe hot against Louis' sensitive skin, then ducks her head again, tugging one nipple, whilst her thumb circles the other.

"Harry, please," Louis gasps, already turned on by  _this,_ and Louis really needs to check her drink wasn't spiked with viagra or something. She's never been so turned up.  


"Hips up, babe," Harry says quietly, and she helps pull Louis' jeans down. Louis ducks her head, embarrassed suddenly in the harsh light of the toilets, but Harry just tilts her head up with one finger, kissing her carefully, like Louis might break if she pushes too hard.

"You okay?" Harry asks quietly, pulling back, and Louis wants to snort. She's half naked in a public bathroom, with  _Harry Styles,_ and she wants to know if she's okay.

"Yeah," she answers, equally as quiet, "Just, um, haven't done this in a while."

Harry thinks about this for a moment, then grabs the bin from the corner, dragging it over to the door. It's large enough it'll make a sound if anyone tries to get in. "Anything else?" Harry asks triumphantly.

Louis cocks her to one side, swinging her heels against the counter. "You could take that off," she suggests, gesturing to Harry's shirt.

Harry grins. "Oh yeah? Would that make you feel more comfortable?"

"Uh huh. It'd, uh, really create a better ambiance in the room."

"Ah well, wouldn't want to disappoint your inner interior designer," Harry murmurs, and slowly takes off her shirt. She's wearing a lacy, sky blue bra, and Louis stares at the way the colour flatters Harry's creamy skin. Harry steps between Louis' legs, trailing her fingers down her abdomen, her fingertips trailing sparks.

She slowly strokes Louis through her knickers, and Louis' hip jerk instinctively. She knows Harry must be able to feel how wet she is through the fabric, and Harry kisses Louis' inner thigh, sucking the skin until she leaves a mark. She then moves back up, hot breathe fanning over Louis' underwear, making her toes clench. Ever so slowly, she tugs Louis' knickers down, one thumb stroking over her hip bone.

Harry slowly thumbs at her clit, rubbing it in a tantalising rhythm. Louis bites her lip to keep quiet, as Harry slowly slides one finger inside her, crooking her fingers in a way that makes Louis squirm. Louis knows she must be wet, that Harry's fingers must be  _slick,_ as Harry eases another finger into her. Louis clenches down instinctively, feeling so full.

"Is this okay?" Harry asks, voice barely a whisper, but she clearly isn't waiting for an answer, because she begins to fuck Louis with her fingers, sliding them in and out, crooking them in just the right place, building up a rhythm. She rubs her thumb hard against Louis' clit, and Louis keens, heat coiling in her lower stomach, thighs trembling.

"You look so good," Harry murmurs, voice deep, and that does it for Louis. She comes, white heat flashing through, gripping onto the counter hard enough her knuckles are white.

She's panting when she comes out of it, leaning her head against Harry's shoulder, feeling completely spent. Harry wraps her arms around her comfortingly, holding her steady as she trembles.

"Right," Louis says, when she can trust herself to speak, "swapsies."

Harry stares at her for a second, then cracks up, shaking her head. "Great, good to know you're into mutual orgasms."

Louis' about to reply, when there's a pounding at the door. Louis jumps a mile, hand flying to her chest. God, she's like some kind of Victorian maiden. Only they probably didn't get off in bathrooms. Did they have bathrooms then? It's not like you can get off in a chamber pot.

"Louis? Harry?" Zayn's voice calls from the door. She sounds nervous, which immediately sets Louis on edge. She grabs her underwear, tugging it up hastily, followed by her jeans. Harry's pulling on her shirt opposite her, face pinched in worry. Louis probably smells like sex, but oh well. She's smelt worse.

"There you are," Zayn snaps once Harry's kicked the bin out of the way. "Some fucking cunt just started on Liam, Niall and the bouncer shut him up but she's upset - "

"We're coming," Harry says immediately, whilst Louis nods her head, hands clenching into fists. "Lead the way."

Liam's standing with Niall and one of the bouncers when they get outside, the harsh light of the street lamps licking shadows on her face. She looks tired, and worse  _resigned,_ like she's accepted this is a normal thing to happen.

Like it's not even worth sparing any emotion for, because it's a mundane thing now. Louis only realises she's still clenching her hand when Harry smooths out her fingers, link them with hers.

"Are you okay?" Louis demands, hand tight in Harry's, "what happened?"

"Just some arsehole being a dick to Liam and Zayn," Niall answers, blue eyes steely. "Me and Bressie kicked him out."

Louis assumes Bressie is the bear of a man next to Niall. Confusingly, his name tag also reads Niall. Maybe it's an Irish thing. "James Arthur, he's a regular though, so I'll talk to Ed and get him barred."

"Thanks," Liam says, voice throaty, "thanks, Niall, thanks, Bressie. We better head off."

Niall bites her lip, then on an impulse gives Liam a hug. Louis can see Liam is surprised, but she hugs her back all the same, a little of the tension draining out of her.

The walk back to the car is quiet, the air stretched taut between them. Louis doesn't let go of Harry's hand, thinks back to a few minutes ago, when she was seeing white and trembling under Harry's hand. And now she's walking back in a deserted car park, watching her friends put themselves back together, because of one homophobic  _dickbag._

"You know," Harry says loudly, "I really hate stupid people."

It breaks the ice a little, Liam turning to smile wearily at Harry. "Me too, Harry. Me too."

It's a little better after. Zayn flicks on the radio, Jason Myraz crooning at them softly, and Louis sees Liam shoots her a grateful glance. Harry holds Louis' hand and doesn't let go, keeps her fingers slotted against Louis' as the watch the streets go past.

 

 

 

 

 

"So."

"So."

Louis smiles, leaning back against the door frame to her house. Harry had walked to her door, something indescribably sweet in that little act. 

"Um, I'm not really in the mood for that tonight," Harry blurts, "just, after what happened at the club, I kind of - "

"Harry," Louis says, reaching out and linking their hands together. "It's cool. I'm not exactly up for getting hot and heavy either. Douche bag homophobes don't really set the tone."

Harry grins, leaning forward so her hair tumbles over her shoulders, eyeliner just the tiniest bit smudged. "Yeah, I'm more of a candles and dinner girl."

"We could do that," Louis blurts because she loses her nerve. "Candles and dinner. If you want."

Harry smiles so wide you can see her dimples. "I would like that."

"Besides, I do owe you an orgasm," Louis says casually, just to see Harry flinch.

"Goodnight, Louis," Harry says softly, kissing her once, deep and bruising, as if she's trying to memorise the shape of Louis' lips. She drops a kiss to Louis' cheek, then waves as she walks back to the car.

Louis definitely doesn't watch her go, and she definitely doesn't squeal like a teenage girl for ten minutes once the door is shut.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If Louis looks a little more glamorous than usual on Monday, that's just a coincidence. She puts on her favourite blue dress, the one her mum got her for Christmas (also the one Lottie tried to smuggle into her bag last time she stayed round.)

It's sleeveless, but has a belt the shows off Louis' waist, the material emphasising Louis' blue eyes. She does her hair in a messy bun like Zayn's, and does her eyeliner and mascara carefully. She picks her white Louis Vuitton bag, and slips on her favourite black pumps.

Louis' not in the fashion sector, but she still likes putting together an outfit, picking what pieces look good together. She likes being able to choose something that's  _her,_ normally bright and a little different, but looking  _good_ at the same time.

Louis also pops into the coffee shop before she goes to work. Jesy makes a sympathetic face when she orders a cranberry Danish pastry. "Liam have a rough weekend?"

Louis only every orders Danish pastries when Liam is upset, like the time all the power went out the day of a launch party, and Louis had to order an entire box and sprinkled doughnut as well. "Just some guy being a dick at the bar on Friday."

Jesy rolls her eyes, handing Louis her order. "Send him my way, I'll shut him up. Tell Liam I hope she's okay, all right?"

"Thanks, Jesy," Louis grins, holding the hot pastry to her chest gently, "I'll see you later."

Liam's typing on her laptop when Louis knocks on the door to her office. She holds out the bag, shaking it enticingly. "Morning, boss."

Liam looks up, face softening as she takes in the bag in Louis' hand. "Danish?"

"Duh," Louis answers, walking in and placing the bag on her desk. "You okay? I texted you a couple of times over the weekend."

Liam makes a face, screwing her nose up. "It's like Harry said, isn't it? It's stupid, stupid opinions, stupid people, stupid to be upset over said stupid people. But it still hurts. And I hate what it does to Zayn more than it does to me."

"Just keep proving them wrong, yeah?" Louis says fiercely, "all those people that ask you what's it's like 'having a girl on top,' you just show them all the awards we've won, the progress we've made, the sheer dedication of our staff, and we'll see whose laughing them. Same with you and Zayn. Just because half of them idiots are never going to have sex with a girl in their miserable, little lives."

Liam laughs, smiling so her eyes crinkle up at the corners. "We should make that our manifesto."

"We should make that  _England's_ manifesto," Louis argues, just to see Liam smile wider. "Do I get to take the day off because I brought you pastries?"

"Try no." Liam spins around in her chair, pointing one finger at her. "How did you and Harry get on on Friday, huh? I saw you go off to the toilets after her song."

Louis shrugs. She is the queen of nonchalance. "I needed to wee."

"Right. For a half an hour?"

"I have a bladder infection."

Liam stares at her. "That is probably the least attractive thing I've ever heard you say. Get out of my office, you freak."

Louis salutes her before heading out, grinning. She starts researching for her next article when she gets back to her desk; the Glasgow Commonwealth games are next month, and Louis is really hoping Liam will will send her up there to interview some of the sportswomen. She's already got a plan to drop subtle hints, like leaving haggis in Liam's fridge next time she goes round for a girl's night.

"Heyy."

Louis looks up, heart already fluttering at the familiar drawl. "Hey, Harry."

Harry's in a white blouse and a black pencil skirt, her hair tied in a loose fishtail plait. Louis reaches for it, the action reflexive, trailing her fingers over the soft strands. "I can never do fishtail plaits."

"I'll teach you," Harry smiles, "Gemma taught me when I was little. She made me do it for  _hours,_ and she wouldn't let me go until I'd done it right."

"I can always do it on my little sisters," Louis says, pulling a face. "The twins especially, ever since  _Frozen_ came out. But I can't do it myself, it's a bun or bust. Zayn once shaved the side of her head, it looked sick, but knowing me I'd probably look like a convict if I did it."

"You could cut it a bit shorter?" Harry suggests, "you'd look cute with a pixie cut."

Louis flushes. "Thanks."

"So, um," Harry says, leaning against Louis' desk, "did you have a nice weekend?"

Louis can't stop the warmth spreading across her skin at Harry's attempts to be casual. "Harry, I still want to go on a date with you."

Harry rolls her eyes, but Louis can see the pleased flush on her skin. "I don't know what you're talking about, I was just trying to start a conversation."

"Okay, well let me start one," Louis grins, leaning forward. "Do you want to come round mine next Saturday?"

Harry grins. "Will there be candles?"

Louis snorts. "If you buy some."

"Dinner?"

"I'm a bit of a shit cook?"

Harry cocks her head to one side, lips tilted up, playing with her cross necklace. "Right, so you've asked me on a date, to  _your_ house, but I've got to do all the work?"

Louis tries not to laugh. "Hey, I provided the accommodation. If you want me to order take out, or burn some pasta - "

"How is it that your suggestion is the only appealing option?"

"Don't know. Must be magic."

Harry leans in close, and Louis' mind immediately flashes back to the bathroom, to slick fingers and bruised lips, because it is a traitorous organ that has nothing to do with her.

"You're a shit date, Tomlinson," she breathes. The hair's on the back of the Louis' neck are standing up. "But I'll see you at 8." Harry darts a kiss to Louis' jaw, lips warm and fleeting, then pulls back, giving Louis a cheeky wave as she struts off.

When Louis presses a hand to her jaw, it comes away pink with lipstick.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There's a reason Louis hasn't gone on a date for a year, because if you go on a date you have to display some degree of sanity and self-worth, and give some kind of evidence that you have your shit together and can function like an adult. 

Like not having milk in your fridge that's been expired for two weeks, and is now an ominous lime colour.

"Lottie," Louis says into the phone balanced in the crook of her neck. "How can you tell when milk's gone off?"

There's a pause, where Louis can practically hear the click of Lottie's eyes as she rolls them. "Well, you know the little numbers on the side? They're  _dates,_ when they're not the same as the ones on the calendar - "

"Fuck off," Louis says mildly, gingerly holding the milk with one hand. "Ugh, it stinks, how have I not noticed this?"

Naturally, if you're  _not_ a functional adult with some semblance of an organised life, (and clean flat), you call an 18 year old. 

"Because you're a slob," Lottie scoffs. Louis shuts the fridge, throwing the milk in the bin. She begins to tidy up the flat. Which is way messier than she realised. She's just found a pair of socks she'd thought Zayn had stolen. Probably explains why she keeps denying that. "So, tell me about this girl. She must be a stunner if you're actually cleaning your hovel."

"It's not a hovel, it's a  _dump,"_ Louis says snidely, "what about your boyfriend, mum told me you went on a date."

"Don't change the subject," Lottie says snappily. Louis has no idea where she got her attitude from. "Does this girl work at the magazine with you?"

"She's interning," Louis says absent mindedly, trying to pull the top off the polish. "Hang on, I've got to spray."

"Excuse me?"

"The  _polish,_ okay, I'm back," Louis says, rubbing her dining table furiously. Are you supposed to polish those kinds of tables? At least it's shiny. "Her name's Harry. She's interning at the magazine during the summer."

Lottie hum a little. "How old is she?"

"21," Louis says through gritted teeth, "Lottie, don't - "

"You  _cradle snatcher,_ " Lottie says gleefully, "Louis - "

"Shut up," Louis moans, "it's only three years."

"Right," Lottie says derisively, but she doesn't say anything else. There's a long pause, then Lottie says hesitantly, "She's interning - "

"Another age joke, Lottie, and I will tell mum about that time I caught you smoking."

"No you won't, it was Zayn's cigarette, so." Lottie pauses. "Lou, if she's interning, doesn't that mean she's going to leave?"

Louis freezes, her entire body locking up. She licks her lips, dry. "How's your boyfriend?"

"Lou - "

"Are you using protection? You know a condom isn't just enough, sperm is very tenacious - "

"I hate you," Lottie says flatly, "I'm hanging up now. Good luck with your big lesbian crush."

Louis laughs until she hears the dial code, then puts the phone back on the stand, trying not to laugh, until she remembers what they were talking about.

It's not like she hasn't thought about. It's always been there, lurking in the back of her mind, like dark seaweed waiting to drag her to the depths of reality. A part of her (a small, obstinate part), was always aware that Harry's only interning, that she'll be looking for a job at the end of her summer.

But Louis  _really_ doesn't want to think about that, especially not now, with the soft light spilling across her newly cleaned flat, the sweet smell of cherry in the air because she's a  _twat_ and actually brought a scented candle in the end. Not when Harry's going to be knocking on the door any moment.

She takes a moment to collect herself, breathes in and counts to ten like when she was little and people used to ask her where her dad's gone.

Louis unclenches slowly, flexes her knuckles to get the blood back into them, and just as she's putting the polish away, there's a knock on the door.

Harry's standing there nervously. She's wearing a lacy white skirt with a brown belt, and a grey long sleeved crop top, showing off her slim waist. Her hair is tumbling around her shoulders in waves, and she's holding it back with a vibrant blue headscarf. She reminds Louis of summer, bright and sunny and  _alive._ _  
_

"You look really nice," Louis says softly, and Harry's whole face brightens, "I like your headscarf."

"So do you," Harry says shyly, "I like your earrings."

Harry walks into the flat, blinking green eyes as she looks around. She sniffs delicately. "What's that smell? Is that cherry blossom?"

"Um, yeah," Louis says slowly, "it was the only one they had in the candle shop - "

"You brought me a candle?" Harry says slowly, and then Louis is being kissed, fiercely and without any notice, kind of like the way Harry fell into Louis' life. 

Harry's got Louis pressed against the door, when Louis realises that Harry is deliciously taller than her. Well, she knew that, but it's different with this angle. Harry presses a bruising kiss to Louis' lips, tongue sliding against hers, licking into her mouth as if she's trying to taste her.

Louis can feel shivers spreading down her spine, this shivery static energy as Harry's hips press against hers, her hands settle low on Louis' waist. Louis' dizzy, and turned on, and she could really do this forever when Harry pulls back.

"I love cherry," Harry says, "where's your kitchen?"

Louis can physically feel her brain dripping out of her ears. She points in a vague direction, and Harry beams at her, heading that way and grabbing a plastic bag she'd dropped when she'd been ravishing Louis. Louis feels as though she deserves a good ravishing. She may even swoon to really mimic a Jane Austen character.

"What are you doing?" Louis asks suspiciously. Harry's bending down, rifling through her cupboard, pulling out dubious looking implements. Oh well. Harry's skirt rides up when she bends down, so Louis' leaving her to it.

"Cooking," Harry says brightly, straightening up regrettably, "do you know where your whisk is?"

Louis stares at her. "How do you whisk?"

Harry looks as though she's trying very, very hard not to laugh. "It's okay, I'll find it."

Louis blinks at her. "Are you actually cooking?"

"Louis," Harry says seriously, "you broke the microwave in the staff room, because you put tinfoil in there. Zayn said you had to call the fire brigade."

"Zayn's a liar," Louis says, equally seriously, "she's never been the same since she slept with Liam. It's turned her brain to mush."

"Okay," Harry says, rolling her eyes, "but I'm cooking. I want to. You can watch if you want."

Harry Styles. Goes to someone else's house for dinner, then cooks the dinner herself.

"Do you have an apron or anything?" Harry asks, pulling a packet of pasta from her bag. Louis thinks about it for a second, then smirks. "Yeah, sure, hang on."

She finds it burrowed in the coat rack, and pulls it out, handing it to Harry. Harry reads it, double takes, then glares at Louis. "Louis."

"Yes, Harry?" Louis says innocently.

"Louis," Harry repeats, holding out the apron. "This apron says ' _Don't be a pussy, eat one.'"_

Louis struggles to hold her laughter in. "Zayn got it for me for Christmas. Do you like it?"

Harry gives her a dirty look, then actually  _puts it in,_ which makes Louis crack up entirely, Harry's grumpy kitten face then the apron below it.

"I'm making you dinner," Harry threatens, "stop being a menace."

It's nice, sitting in the kitchen with Harry. Very domestic. Louis puts her Ipod on, so soon the soft sound of music feels the kitchen, Harry humming along when she thinks Louis isn't watching. Louis offers to helps with everything, but only manages to almost start a pan fire, so gets downgraded to setting the table. _  
_

"Were you a baker in a past life?" Louis asks, moving the candle so it's in pride of place, then putting down two pairs of knives and forks.

"I used to work in a bakery when I was younger," Harry shrugs, doing something complicated with a bowl, "I used to work with old ladies. It was nice."

"Womanizer," Louis drawls, and Harry laughs, sweet.

"What are you doing now?" Louis asks, pressing herself against Harry's back. It's probably a bit forward, but something about Harry makes her want to push this, to test the fragile tendrils of sexual tension between them, see what happens if she pushes them hard enough that they snap. She has to lift herself on her toes a little to hook her chin over Harry's shoulder.

(And when something's undetermined, well. Louis will take what she can get.)

Harry hesitates, then says, "I've got to saute the onions."

"Why have you saluted the onions?"

Harry laughs, and Louis can feel her stomach moving under her hands. "No, saute. It's like - don't worry. They'll be fine."

"You know what else is fine?" Louis murmurs in her sexiest voice, but she can't keep it up and starts laughing, smothering her giggles in Harry's neck, burrowing her face in the soft skin.  

"You're such an idiot," Harry says softly, taking one hand off the pan to push Louis' hands away from her butt (though Louis has no idea how they got there). "No sex in the kitchen. It's unhygienic. Go set the table."

"I've set the table," Louis moans, letting go of Harry. "The amount of effort put into that."

"You're such a baby," Harry says fondly, shaking her head. "Okay, it's almost ready. Could you get me some plates, please?"

Louis hands her the plates and Harry dishes up, putting them down on the table. Louis takes a bite and almost spits it back out it's so good. "Holy crap, Harry! This is amazing!"

Harry blushes prettily, looking down at her plate. "Thank you."

"You should go on the _Great British Bake Off_ ," Louis say seriously, "actually, isn't one of the presenters a lesbian? You might have someone on your side to sweet talk the judges."

"I'm pretty sure that's vaguely offensive," Harry says mockingly, pointing her fork at Louis.

Louis snorts. "How's that offensive? _I'm_ a  _lesbian,_ that's like stabbing myself in the eye with my own fork."

"Please don't do that," Harry whines, "I'm not cleaning up the blood. I have no idea how to do that."

"Such concern for my personal safety, thanks, Styles."

Harry just rolls her eyes at her, and Louis grins, taking another bite of her meal. They chat for a little bit, then Harry helps clean up. It's all very cliche and sweet, and Louis can't help the gold, happy feeling settling over her bones.

They watch a film after a mature and considerate conversation - ("We're watching  _Bambi."_ "Are you fucking kidding." "Why? It's a classic." "Sit your arse down, we're watching  _Captain America.") -_ both curled up on the sofa.

About half way through, Louis realises Steve Rogers just isn't doing it for her. Which is shocking in itself, but Louis' willing to sacrifice the tragic and doomed bromance of Bucky and Steve, if it means she gets to kiss Harry again. 

Slowly, Louis places one hand on Harry's knee. Harry inhales, but keeps her gaze fixed on the screen. Harry's wearing a skirt, and Louis can feel her silky soft skin under her hand. Sneeking a glance at Harry's face, Louis can see her eyes are darkening, sending a little jolt through her.

Louis shuffles closer, gently sliding her hand under Harry's skirt. She feels the corner of Harry's lace underwear, then slides her thumb down, feels where Harry's already hot and wet through the fabric.

Harry catches her hand then, and Louis blinks, before Harry kisses her, harsh and demanding, licking into Louis' mouth like she owns it. She tugs Louis into her lap, strong arms wrapping around her back, and Louis grinds down, groaning at the friction.

"Bed," she pants once they break apart. "Definitely bed."

Harry nods, cheeks pink and gaze heavy. Louis nods back, heat building in her stomach.

"Er, Louis?"

"Yeah?"

"You're still sitting on me."

"Oh," Louis blurts, scrabbling off Harry. Harry cackles, but Louis just ignores her, pulling her towards the bedroom. 

It feels frantic when they get in the room, Louis kicking the door shut. They both pull each other's clothes off, giggling into each other's mouths as Harry fumbles with her bra straps. Louis feels giddy as Harry catches her mouth in a kiss, pushing her towards the bed, pulling off her shirt as she pins Harry to the bed with her hips.

"Didn't get to do this properly," Louis murmurs, pressing Harry down against the bed. "Not when you forced me into that awful bathroom."

"Yeah, because I was the one doing the forcing," Harry grins up at her, hair spread out on Louis' pillows. She's still in the same blue lacy lingerie from the other day.

Louis traces the edge of the soft material. Harry catches her hand, thumb rubbing over her fingers. It's painfully intimate. "Thought you liked this."

"Hm," Louis says, placing soft kisses down Harry's torso. She carefully presses down on Harry's hip, until she's shuffled all the way down the bed. She hooks a thumb under Harry's matching knickers, pulling them down slowly.

"You're making me look bad," Harry mumbles when Louis begins to stain her thigh with small bruises. Louis pauses, propping herself up on her elbow.

"You're complaining about my sexual technique when I'm about to get you off?"

"Well you don't have to be some succubus in disguise," Harry mutters, "I only had a bathroom to work with. We can't all spread people out on a pillow."

Louis catches the break in Harry's tone, and she crawls off her, sitting up. "Harry, you realise that that was one of the best orgasms I've ever had? Just because I get to do this in my crappy flat, doesn't make me Casanova. It's not - there's not a point system."

Harry bites her lip, then says, "Sexual scoreboard you mean."

Louis grins, leaning down to kiss Harry's cheek. "You've had some experience, right?"

Harry rolls her eyes. "Yep, you're not deflowering me."

Louis pinches her hip gently. "Cheeky, curly. So we both just sound like a sex ed leaflet and goes with  _what feels right_."

Harry giggles, relaxing her muscles a bit. "Okay. Let's do that."

Louis nods. "Mutual orgasms. We've discussed it. Mind if I get back to our scheduled viewing?"

"Shut up, you idiot," Harry says, pushing her away, but she lies down again anyway. Louis settles between her legs, resting her hands on Harry's thigh.

Harry's pink, and perfect, and wet, her clit slick when Louis indulges herself by running one thumb over it. Louis presses a soft kiss to her clit, before moving away and licking a flat line up her slit.

Harry tastes salty, and bizarrely a bit like fruit, so Louis gently traces her folds with the tip of her tongue, licks up her slit again with the flat of her tongue, does everything to taste Harry without touching her clit. 

Louis realises she can feel Harry getting wetter, and Harry's keening softly now above her. Louis slowly sucks Harry's clit in to her mouth, running her tongue around it, grazing it carefully with her teeth.

At the same time, she slips a finger into Harry, then another, slowly fucking them into Harry as she applies pressure to her clit. Harry feels so tight around her, soft velvet heat, and Louis never thought this would do it for her but it does, it really does, feeling Harry clench down on her fingers whilst she tastes her in her mouth.

"Louis," Harry gasps as Louis twists her fingers just right, and she comes, thighs trembling as she rides it out, clenching down on Louis' fingers.

Louis slips her fingers out gently as Harry comes down, kissing her softly on her collarbone. Harry's got a slight sheen of sweat breaking on her skin, but she looks beautiful, wrecked bruised lips, slick between her thighs, one hand fisted into the sheets with an iron grip.

Louis is about to wipe her fingers on the sheets, but then catches Harry's eye. Slowly, she licks her fingers clean. It's worth to see the shiver that goes down Harry's spine. 

Harry looks completely fucked, face slack and lips bruised. She reaches up to thumb over Louis' collarbone, "Mutual, you said?"

"Yeah," Louis says slowly, then Harry's going down on her, and she doesn't say anything intelligible for an extended period of time.

She comes with one hand fisted in Harry's hair, though Harry doesn't seem to mind, little mewls vibrating against Louis' pussy when Louis tugs the curly strands. Harry's voracious, and Louis has a vague inkling this may a  _thing,_ but then Harry's doing this  _thing_ with her tongue, and the only  _thing_ Louis' doing is coming, white hot flashing through her, eyes shut and toes curled.

Louis' panting when she finishes, Harry grinning at her dumbly. She's hovering above Louis, this big doofy smile on her face. Louis shoves at her. "Get your smile out of my face."

Harry giggles, dropping down beside her. "Do you want to cuddle?" she asks hopefully.

"Jesus,  _no,_ " Louis moans.

They cuddle. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Louis' not sure if she and Harry are dating, but if asked she would say they're dating. After the - frankly - mindblowing sex, Harry didn't disrespect her in the morning or mark her up on her headboard, or whatever thing Louis was secretly terrified of happening. 

They end up falling asleep, curled up together on the bed, sweaty and smiling. Harry cooks her egg on toast for breakfast. Louis nearly proposes right there and then. Instead, Harry asks her shyly if they could keep doing this, and Louis answers by pushing her against the table and eating her out until Harry  _cries._

Louis quickly learns office romances are the fucking  _best._ She has no idea what Zayn was complaining about. She and Harry hold hands in the elevator. Harry writes cute messages on her coffee cups when she gets her order. Louis hasn't even had office sex yet, and she already knows it will be amazing. 

Zayn's suspicious. She keeps eyeing up Louis distrustfully. "If you have sex on my desk," Zayn says crisply, "I will gut you with a ruler."

Louis gives her a wicked grin and doesn't reply. Zayn throws a stapler at her head.

A couple of weeks in to this precious, fragile, fluffy thing called a relationship that Louis has no idea what to do with beside pet gently, Louis and Harry are curled up on Louis' sofa. There's an old repeat of a chick flick playing on the screen, but neither of them are really paying attention. It's been a busy week at week, and Harry's got her head resting on Louis' thigh, Louis stroking Harry's hair softly.

"Lou," Harry says quietly. She's curled like a little kitten. Louis' feeling sleepy and content, her girlfriend in her lap.

She might ask Harry is she wants to stay over. It's been an unspoken agreement ever since they slept together, partly because Louis understands common decency, and partly because she's become used to Harry's gangly limbs wrapped around hers. "Lou."

"Hm?"

"What's the story behind your _17_ tattoo?"

Louis freezes. "What?"

Harry mumbles something into Louis' knee. "You said there was a story behind it. When we were discussing tattoos."

Louis swallows, and it feels like lead in her throat. "That was ages ago."

Harry moves in Louis' lap, blinking green eyes up at her. "Am I not allowed to ask that? It's okay if not, you don't have to tell me. We can keep watching the film."

Harry turns her head, squinting. She crinkles her nose. "Um. I'm not sure what's going on, but. I'm sure we could google the synopsis or something - "

"Haz, it's fine," Louis laughs, leaning down to kiss her nose. It's a bit sickening how far gone she is for Harry, but she gets orgasms out of it and it's also really, really scary sometimes. Like when Louis' teetering on the edge of telling her what her  _17_ tattoo means. 

She tugs Harry up from her lap, so they're sitting facing each other cross legged. Harry is in a loose tank top and jogging bottoms, because Louis officially declared it a pyjama night, and the strap of it is falling down, revealing the soft skin of her shoulder. The light of the film licks across their faces, creating dancing shadows. Louis clasps their hands, like little girls making a promise pact in primary school.

"It's my football number," Louis says slowly, heart thumping. She clutches Harry's hands, nails digging in unconsciously. "When I was in Year 11, I - I came out. I started dating this girl, Eleanor. I was on the footie team at the time, and - "

Louis swallows, teeth digging into her lips, fresh memories barrelling back. "People said stuff. Girls refused to change in the same room as me. I got scared, I left the team. I stopped dating Eleanor, pretended I was straight, I - "

The words feel like they're choking her, the darking feelings of fear and containment, of having to be what was  _right,_ whilst feeling dirty about lying about herself. They crash into Louis like a tidal wave, threatening to drown with how vivid they feel. Louis' breath hitches, rib cage  _squeezing -_

"Louis," Harry says softly, gripping her hands, "Louis, babe. You were, what? 16. You were scared, you were  _young._ Do you know how many people lie about their sexuality? School hierarchy is stifling at that age, okay? You have nothing to be ashamed of."

Harry's words fill the hollow space that aches in Louis' chest, filling it up with sweet support. Louis takes a shaky breath, then another, nodding. Harry chews her bottom lip, then says, "Louis, I'm not gay."

Louis stares at her for a long second, then cracks up. "Haz, hate to break it to you, but I'm not sure what exactly you think we've been doing - "

"No!" Harry scowls, though there's a smile hiding at the corner of her lips, "I mean, I don't just like girls."

"I see," Louis says seriously, "you've been stepping out on me with Ashton, haven't you?"

"Lewis," Harry grumbles, pinching the back of Louis' hand. "Listen, I'm having my coming out story now."

Oh. Louis nods, squeezing Harry's hands. She wants to give Harry as much support as she gave Louis, so she sits forward.

"I'm bisexual," Harry says slowly, "or, like. I don't really bother naming it. I just like people, if there funny, or sweet and there's a spark. I don't see why you shouldn't be open to a relationship with anyone, regardless of gender. But, um. People didn't always get that."

Harry blows away one of her curls that have fallen in her face. Louis instinctively reaches up to brush it away, gently stroking the soft curve of Harry's jaw.

"There's was one girl in Uni," Harry says, clenching her fists. It aches a little how lost she looks, green eyes drowning in memories. "I'd broken up with my girlfriend of the time. And there was this really nice guy, James. It was too soon after my breakup, but he was nice, said we could just be friends for a while."

Harry clears his throat. "He was a real gentleman, actually. But this girl had a crush on him. She didn't like that he liked me. She called me, um, greedy. Said I was a slut for wanting to sleep with everyone."

Harry makes a little self-deprecating laugh. It feels like a knife's being twisted in Louis' heart. "She was pretty drunk, but. Still hurt."

Louis hugs her. She throws her arms around Harry, burying her face in her neck. Harry makes a little sound in the back of her throat, gripping her tight. She squeezes Louis hard, but Louis just pulls her closer.

"You're not a slut," Louis says fiercely, pulling back but keeping her arms looped around her neck. "You're not. You are the cutest, funniest, smartest, kindest, fluffiest person I've ever met. You would never lead anyone on, and it's bullshit that anyone said you would. What, there are no humans for bisexuals? There's only  _prey?"_

It startles a laugh out of a Harry, who grins at Louis. It's only a little sad, so Louis counts it as a win. Harry exhales, sliding her arms down so they're rubbing Louis' arms. 

"I like you so much," Louis says softly. "If anyone,  _anyone,_ ever says anything like that to you ever again, I swear to god I'll punch them."

Harry snuffles into her shoulder. "I like you so much, too," she says quietly.

It's not as scary as it should be.

 

 

 

 

 

Louis' spinning around in her desk chair when Harry pops her head into the office. "Heyy."

"Hey, love," Louis grins. Harry beams back, crossing her arms, showing the curve of her perky breasts. 

"Do you want to go get some lunch?" Harry says brightly, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "I cleared it with Liam. She said it's okay. I may have blackmailed her with some baby pictures."

"You have baby pictures, and you never  _showed me_?" Louis gasps, "you have prime manipulation material, and you kept it hidden?"

Harry rolls her eyes, slipping her hand into Louis'. Louis tries not to squeal like a little girl at the way their hands fit together, fingers slotting into place. "Shut up, Louis. You realise Liam and Zayn are  _together?_ Zayn would sell you out in a second." _  
_

"Zayn would never do that. No. She probably would. Don't come over here and be all right with me."

Harry giggles, tugging Louis into the cafe. Jesy smirks at her when they come in, glancing pointedly at their joined hands. Louis just beams at her, shaking her head as Jesy wolf whistles.

"So, I had something to tell you," Harry says once they've sat down. Louis glances up at her; Harry's looking down at the table, tapping her nails on it nervously. Louis feels alarm flash through her. "I wasn't sure how to say it."

"Are you breaking up with me?" Louis blurts, hating how desperate and high her voice goes. She can't think, blinking rapidly in an effort not to cry. 

"No, Lou!" Harry says, reaching forward and grabbing Louis' hand. "No, of course not. No, I got a job at  _Billboard."_

"That's amazing!" Louis gasps, "oh my god, Harry! That's so cool."

Harry beams at her, whole face lighting up. "It's only a small position, but I can work my way up. I sent in some of my articles, told them about my work there before and my experience, and they said I can start in September."

"September," Louis repeats, and suddenly everything doesn't seem so glamorous. "That's. Uh. Soon."

Harry nods, eyes dropping to the table. "I know."

Oh. Louis feels the pressure on her chest start again, squeezing hard, the back of her eyes beginning to prickle. So that's it. No more walking to work, or going for cute lunches, or sending each other spam emails until Liam threatens to fire them. No more Harry.

"Right," Louis says, voice sounded too small to be hers. She doesn't know what to say.

"Louis," Harry says, and Louis forces herself to look up. "Louis, you realise  _Billboard_ have an office in London?"

Louis stares at her for a long, long second. Then she begins to laugh. "Oh my god. I thought you were  _breaking up with me._ But you're staying in London."

Harry grins. "And so are you."

Louis can't help it. She slides out of her seat, throwing herself down into Harry's lap. She kisses her, soft and sweet and  _happy,_ Harry pulling them closer until there's no space between their bodies. Louis feels electric just touching Harry, like her whole body is on fire, so wrapped up in this girl that she never wants to let go. 

"I really, really like you," Louis whispers, placing a quick kiss on Harry's lips. "And I know just how to celebrate your fancy new job."

Harry nuzzles into Louis' neck, soft hair tickling Louis' skin. "How?"

Louis smirks. " _Karaoke."_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to star55 for running girl direction month! kudos and comments are love :)
> 
> [my tumblr! :)](http://ariadneodair.tumblr.com/) if you wanted to have a look :)


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